Of Berk And Both Their Tactless Tricks
by A Trashbag Writes
Summary: "It's been awhile, dragon rider." he says. "It's been awhile, dragon trapper." she replies. [A story in which songs will be sung, sheep will be tossed, and two enemies will learn to take the old with the new.]
1. Of Dances And Long Lost Memories

_Somewhat nervous about posting this as it's really rough and will most likely need to be edited a lot...  
_

_Reviews/constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated! I don't write many multi-chapter stories so i'm always looking for ways to improve. I hope you enjoy!  
Note: re-edited as i've realized a little too late that I really, really hate writing in past tense._

* * *

"What do you think, Skullcrusher? Quite the view, isn't it?"  
Eret, Son of Eret, gives a laugh as the enormous creature, presently curled up beside him, lifts its head to give him a gentle nudge on the arm. Eret gives the creature's head an affectionate pat before Skullcrusher shuts his eyes once again, content to support the weight of his new master with the bulk of his body, and sleep.

The entire island of Berk is laid out before the two of them, dragon and rider: hills and rooftops glowing in a sunset that Eret never knew could look so beautiful.  
From somewhere far, far below, he can hear dragons roaring and villagers laughing and shouting. He can see small lights begin to dot the village as the sun dips below the line on the horizon where the sea meets the sky. He can smell the mouthwatering scent of roasting seasoned meats dripping with fat, and baked, spiced sweets on the wind as mothers, fathers, and children prepare for the night's festivities.

Eret takes it all- the peace and the calm and the quiet, in.  
And he can scarcely believe that this is now his home. Because just a few weeks ago, he had had nothing. And now, he has things that he has never even dreamed of being able to hope for.  
All is right with the world.  
And yet, somehow, it is not.

True, he is by all rights, 'redeemed'; a true citizen of Berk, and most have been gracious enough to forget or forgive him for his association with Drago Bludvist, but there are still those who can not, _**will** _not accept him. Not yet.  
Eret understands this, of course. Really, he does. But when he walks through the village each day and people's eyes grow uneasy and all conversations cease at the sight of his face, that is when the brand Drago had seared into his skin all those years ago still burns. Because Eret had been..._**misguided**_ in the past, perhaps. But he had never truly been the enemy. That was what he chose to believe, anyway.  
That was the only thing he **_could_** believe, if he were to go on.

"Hey, Eret."  
The very large man jumps at the sudden voice but collects himself just in time to see his friend Astrid emerging from the sparse forest that begins at the very base of the mountain and ends just a few feet from the edge of the cliff where he and his dragon now rest.  
"Astrid." he says in way of greeting. Then, he frowns. "What are you doing here?"  
The blonde gives a little laugh and then a shrug as she settles down to his right, feet dangling over the edge of the mountain with a reckless abandon.  
Eret almost chuckles at that. The action is very..._**her**_.  
"Hiccup said you were up here and, well, I thought you could, I don't know...use a friend." Astrid says, guiltily avoiding his gaze.  
Because they've both had this conversation a thousand times, or rather, Astrid has **_tried_ **to have this conversation a thousand times, but Eret, as glib as he knows he can be, is very good at deflecting.

There is a short moment of silence then and when the girl senses that her companion isn't on the offensive just yet, she presses just a little further "He's worried about you, you know..."  
"Me?" Eret finally replies with feigned shock in his voice. "Whatever for? I'm the best dragon wrangler around."  
Astrid shoots him a look.  
"You know what I mean." she replies shortly. A pause. Then, more seriously, "It's not exactly a secret that people walk on eggshells around you. You can't keep pretending that doesn't bother you, Eret. Don't you ever get lonely?"  
The enormous man drops the bravado with a little laugh and then ponders that question as he takes a slow, deep breath, filling his lungs with the cold, salty sea air of Berk.  
"No." he lies.  
He gives his friend an easy smile and lays a heavy hand on Skullcrusher as he nods toward the village. "This here," he says. "this is all i'll ever need." With some difficulty, he adds "And you and I both know it's more than I deserve."

And after another moment, Astrid's features finally soften. Because for once, Eret is saying _**something**_, anything about the matter and that is progress in it of itself.  
"...Alright." she relents. "Just...promise you'll come to us if there's anything you need. Hiccup and I, we trust you, Eret."  
"I know." he says.  
After that, Astrid finally lets Eret settle into more comfortable topics of discussion, such as their respective dragon companions, Hiccup's new role as chief, and the upcoming dragon race. And of those things, he talks freely and enthusiastically.  
"Oh! That's right. You're coming to the homecoming celebration at the great hall, right?" Astrid asks during a brief lull in their conversation.  
Eret nods.  
"Don't know who it's for, but it'll be nice not to have to eat my own cooking for once."  
Astrid laughs at that, remembering the first and last time Eret had tried his hand at making a glazed roast.

"Yeah, well. She's an old friend of mine. About a year ago, she left the village to-"  
But suddenly, a familiar pair of roars resounds throughout the hills, followed by a crash and several voices shouting and several sheep bleating.  
"Oh no..." Astrid groans, slapping one hand to her forehead as a plume of smoke begins to rise from somewhere in the village.  
"What was that?" Eret wonders.  
"The twins." she mutters through gritted teeth. But her voice grows very quickly into a shout. "On my way up here, I saw Ruffnut and Tuffnut headed towards Mildew's house. I thought they'd be smart enough not to stir up any trouble for this **_one_** night, but obviously, they have all the self-control of a-"

Another explosion.  
Followed by an old man's shrill warbling: "You'd better answer for this! I don't want any more of you filth-ridden, rat-eating, monster-loving beasts in my-"  
Astrid sighs.  
"I'd better go."  
And then she scrambles hastily to her feet and is running back towards the forest from whence she came, leaving Eret to try and process what in Thor's name is going on.  
"You need any help?" Eret calls after her, but he is still a little lost.  
So Astrid just smiles, shakes her head, and continues on her way.  
"I'll be fine!" she shouts back over her shoulder. "See you tonight, Eret! And don't be late!"

* * *

He is, in fact, late by a whole half hour.  
Not on purpose, mind you. In fact, he had begun preparing for the feast as soon as he had arrived home, feeling quite nervous as this was supposed to be his first official village event. After he had bathed and dressed with a whole hour left to spare however, he had sat at his desk and, exhausted from all the fuss, had fallen asleep.  
Astrid, of course, is furious by the time he finally walks into the rowdy, bustling great hall, trying to smooth down his sleep-mussed head of dark hair.  
"Where have you been?" she demands, giving him a solid punch in the arm as soon as he is within reach.  
"Ow!"  
Astrid isn't wearing her usual pair of gloves with the padded, metal-tipped knuckles, but her strength is still substantial.  
Eret stumbles his way through and explanation, but his friend just rolls her eyes.  
"Nevermind, just come on." Astrid interrups, sighing heavily. And then she half-drags him around and through the throngs of people all drinking mugs of ale and sharing stories or jokes or riddles, over to the table where the rest of the group is sitting, already wolfing down their supper: warm loaves of bread studded with nuts and berries or topped with herbs and cheese, huge platters of potatoes prepared five different ways (baked and mashed and boiled and seasoned and plain), and juicy cuts of glistening roasted chicken or berry-glazed mutton chops or spiced pork. And then rows and rows of tureens filled to the brim with different stews and soups next to the meat pies which are next to the fruit pies which are next to the sweet, sugary cakes.

Mouth watering and stomach rumbling, Eret sits at the table and immediately begins piling his plate high with a little of everything before he even thinks to greet the others at the table.  
Hiccup's friends are a little younger than he is, but they're friendly enough and they are some of the only villagers who seem to actually like his presence, let alone tolerate it, so of course, Eret tends to seek them out whenever he doesn't quite feel like being alone.  
"So, Eret." Ruffnut drawls, sliding down to the seat across from him. She rests her chin on her hands and blinks at him coyly. "Haven't seen you all day."  
"Maybe he was avoiding you." Tuffnut snorts.  
"Shut up."  
"Ow! Hey!"  
"Get off me!"  
"What do you think you're-"  
"Alright, alright, cut it out, you two. You've already caused enough trouble for one day, don't you think?" Hiccup interrupts dryly. He waves his fork in their general direction with a weary sigh.  
"She started it."  
"Did not."  
"Did too-"  
And the argument nearly starts all over again, but Astrid silences them with one sharp look and Eret just laughs good-naturedly at the duo as he pours himself some ale.

"So which one is everyone gathered here to celebrate, anyway?" he asks, nodding towards the villagers.  
Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Hiccup, and Snotlout all open their mouths to explain, but Astrid beats them all to it.  
"I'll introduce you later. Don't worry about it." she says with a casual wave of her hand.  
Eret nods and then, from somewhere across the room, a song picks up and trickles through the crowds, gaining strength as it travels. Before he knows it, the room is ringing with cheerful instruments playing their complimenting tunes all at once and loud voices booming throughout the hall in high clear sopranos and deep throaty rumbles alike.  
And then, there is the dancing.

"Shall we?" Eret overhears Hiccup say to Astrid with a little bow and a ridiculously sappy smile. Tuffnut mimes vomiting.  
But Astrid gives him a hard kick in the shin before accepting Hiccup's hand, and then the two of them join the mad frenzy of flushed cheeks and stamping and clapping.  
"Hey, I want to dance too!" Ruffnut grumbles, and before anyone can protest, she grabs Snotlout's large hand and pulls him to the floor as well, leaving a disgruntled Fishlegs and Tuffnut behind.

"Man, this blows." Tuffnut grumbles boredly. "Come on. Let's go find something better to do."  
"Ooh, ooh! I know! We could..."  
The rest of the sentence tumbles out of Fishlegs's mouth so quickly, Eret can't understand a word of it.

There is a dumbfounded silence.  
Then, "Uh. Yeah. We're not doing that." Tuffnut dead-pans, rising from his seat. "You coming, Eret?"  
Mouth too full to speak just that second, the man just shakes his head and then the two boys shrug and disappear into the crowd.

It is awhile before Eret feels full enough of good food to sit back with his mug of drink and observe the dancers. But when he does, he realizes that they are beautiful.  
Not so much the people themselves as the liveliness that they express as they leap and twirl across the floor in pairs, dressed in deep blues and emerald greens and shades of violet and crimson. The clothes are relatively simple and they are more sturdy than decorative, much like their wearers, but the heat emanating from the enormous fire pit in the center of the room makes it so that, for this one night, the people can shed their many many layers and exchange their heavy fur-trimmed armors for embroidered gowns and tunics instead.

Suddenly, a familiar head of russet-colored hair catches Eret's eye and he immediately recognizes it to be Hiccup's. The young chief is no doubt explaining some complicated new idea to his partner and neither him nor Astrid seem to realize that they are headed straight toward another pair of dancers; a rather burly looking fellow and a woman whose face is obscured by the back of Hiccup's head.

He watches as they collide.  
"Oh! I'm so sorry." Eret hears Astrid say over the sound of the music.  
But when the woman turns to apologize in turn, Astrid's eyes widen in recognition and then both women and their partners fall into a conversation right then and there, much to the annoyance of some dancers nearby.  
Thankfully, Astrid catches on and drags everyone over a few feet, where the conversation resumes and Eret, with nothing else to do, observes.

The first thing he notices is that the other woman's partner laughs heartily. The second is that he moves heavily. In other words, this man is just like anyone other you might find in the village. So Eret turns his attention to the woman instead.

She is, at the moment, still hidden behind Hiccup's head, but Eret can make out that she is laughing pleasantly at something her partner is saying. Astrid cuts in and then Hiccup makes a strange waving motion with his arms, demonstrating some odd...**_something_**.  
And then Astrid punches him and Hiccup_** finally**_ stumbles over a few steps and it is only then that Eret is able to see...that the woman's face is concealed with an engraved mask, marking that she, in fact, is the honored guest of the feast.

Suddenly, as if she can feel him staring (which she, in fact, **_can_ **as Eret has never been a particularly subtle person), the woman turns her head and looks right in his direction.  
He can't be sure whether or not she is looking at _**him**_, but he quickly lowers his eyes to the floor, hoping he hasn't been caught. Because then, he'd have to explain.  
Evidently, however, it is too late.  
Because even though he can't see her anymore, he can feel someone's footsteps approaching his direction and before he knows it, the hem of a gown falls into his line of view. He glances upward cautiously.

"Astrid…" Eret says in surprise. For she is not at all who he is expecting to see.  
"Come on. I have someone to introduce you to." his friend merely replies with a smile. And she takes his arm and drags him over to where the masked person stands, conversing animatedly with Hiccup.

Up close, Eret can see that even without the mask, the woman would be quite pretty. Not a beauty, all-told, but...interesting perhaps.  
"Hey, Althea?" Astrid says. And the woman turns to look at her friend, still laughing at a joke she has been told just seconds before. "This is who I wanted to introduce you to. His name is Eret."  
The woman smiles at him amiably and suddenly, the room feels a little too warm.  
"It's a pleasure to-…" Althea starts to say, but suddenly, she trails off, eyes wide open in apparent surprise.  
"Uh...Althea? You okay, there?" Hiccup asks, nudging her in the side with his elbow.

She gives a small start.  
"...Never better." the woman replies. Then, she smiles again. This time however, her smile is different somehow and it makes Eret feel... uneasy. Still, he quickly dismissed the feeling.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." she says to him. The woman drops a small curtsy, but the entire time, her eyes never leave his face.  
"Likewise." he returns with a bow.  
"So then," Astrid cuts in cheerfully. "now that you two have met, why don't you go and have a dance? You don't mind, do you?"  
That last part is spoken to the Althea's previous partner who bows out politely to go have another mug of ale with a shrug.  
"No, no, I really-" Eret tries to protest, but to his surprise, the woman, Althea, agrees quite readily.  
"Great! Have fun." Astrid says with an encouraging smile aimed in Eret's direction. And then, she and Hiccup are off once again.

Once they are left alone, both of them shuffle around awkwardly for a few uncomfortable moments.  
"Well...shall we?" Althea finally says, holding out her hand.

* * *

They dance for hours and speak very little.  
Sometimes, between songs, he makes a comment here and there and she replies, but other than that, they spend their time laughing and spinning and just trying to catch their breaths.  
Soon, however, it becomes quite clear that she has reached her limit.  
"Care to step outside for some air?" she gasps, cheeks still flushed, eyes still smiling.  
And too elated to think of the strained smile she had given him before, he agrees. Because here is someone who has yet to hear of the person he used to be. Here is someone to whom he is just another villager. And he is addicted to that feeling.

"Goddess, it's stuffy in there." Althea breathes when they are outside. She takes a moment to drink in the cool night air and the blessed silence, and then, she slips the mask off of her face.  
And Eret had been right.  
She is, in fact, merely **_somewhat_** pretty. Or at least her profile is. He can't quite see her face from this angle, although if he-  
"Now, then."  
Eret jumps.  
And suddenly, Althea whirls around to face him with cold features unlike anything he has ever seen.  
A shiver goes down his spine.  
A derisive half-snort, half-laugh escapes the woman's lips.

"And to think I almost gave up on ever finding you..."

But before he can register what that means, something hits him, hard, and everything goes black.

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_


	2. Of Old Things Lost And Old Things Found

_Chapter 2! Hope you all enjoy!  
I wasn't planning on updating so soon, but I wanted to thank all of you for taking the time to read. Thank you, thank you! _

_A few notes: first of all, the next few chapters may take awhile for me to write so i'm very sorry about that in advance. Second, yes. Our main character happens to be the owner of...a Nightfury. I know that may seem Mary Sue-ish, but i'm hoping that when you all find out the reason and see how it ties into the story, it'll make sense?...Hopefully...Erm...I don't know..._

_Reviews/feedback are much appreciated!_

* * *

"Just...take care of it, alright?"  
"There's no way! Hiccup-"  
"Yeah, I know. He's your sworn enemy, eternal rival, whatever. But Althea-"  
"I-"  
"-as chief of Berk, i'm gonna have to ask you to put aside your differences and just...try and get along. For now. Please?"  
"What? No! I refuse! I absolutely refuse to play nice with that-"  
"Look, just do it! I'll take care of** _this_ **disaster when he's up, but right now, I have to go see the twins about the disaster that happened yesterday, alright?"  
There is a brief silence then, followed by a loud but resigned groan of frustration, and the rattling _bang!_ of a fist punching into the side of the poor wall.

And this is what Eret hears when he wakes; dazed and disoriented.  
He blinks, looks around, blinks again, and realizes one thing; this isn't his home. Slowly, he sits up and realizes something else; this isn't his bed.  
That is when the door swings open with a thud and the woman from last night stalks into the hut, clearly fuming about something he can only guess about.

Still, when she speaks, her voice is frighteningly calm and very, very resentful.

"Well. Look who's finally awake." she says, standing over him, arms crossed over her chest. Today, of course, she is not wearing her emerald green dress or her mask, and is instead clad in one version of the standard village uniform; warm boots, gloves, a pair of form-fitting pants and a vest with a fur-trimmed hood that is cinched at the waist with a belt, and worn over a long sleeved tunic.  
But all of these observations are suddenly lost on him when the events of the previous night finally come back.  
"Hang on...You...You hit me!" Eret splutters, ever so eloquently.  
"Yes. Very well-remembered." Althea responds dryly with a roll of her eyes.

She makes to say something more, but instead, lets out a sigh and disappears into what Eret assumes is the kitchen, before reappearing with a bowl and wet wash cloth in hand.  
"...I have to tend to your wound now...so just...deal with it." she mutters grudgingly. And without explaining how he got there or what is going on or why she had punched him in the first place, she perches herself on the edge of the bed and reaches up to wipe away the blood that runs down the newly re-opened cut on his lip.  
Of course, Eret resists.  
"If you think i'm going to let you touch me after what you did," he hisses, grabbing at Althea's wrist.

Almost immediately, a low, threatening growl sounds from the corner of the room.  
Eret freezes.  
No doubt about it. It is a dragon.

And judging by the fact that she doesn't even bother to turn her glare away from his face, it is **_her_ **dragon.  
"It's okay, Bloodbiter." Althea says.

The words are unconvincing, said through gritted teeth.  
But Eret hardly notices that.  
Because curled up in the far side of the room, is a Nightfury.  
A Nightfury that he recognizes.  
And his heart nearly stops.

"That dragon…" Eret murmurs, a thousand different thoughts rushing through his head all at once.  
And Althea gives him a wry smile as she finally pries her wrist from his grip.  
"Finally recognize us, do you?"

* * *

_"Let us go. Please! I am begging you."_  
_ A derisive laugh. This isn't the first time someone's pleaded for their life._  
_ "I have a quota to fill, dragon rider. The Nightfury is mine!"  
He turns to give orders. But then-_

_ "I'm not asking for my sake! I'm not asking for Bloodbiter's sake!...I'm asking you to let us go. For yours." A pause. "Let us go." Voice quiet and pleading._  
_An uncertain silence, quickly covered by another laugh. Sounds almost nervous, this time._  
_ "You're in over your head, girl. Men, kill her!"_  
_ Eyes show fear, but just for a second.  
__Then, they narrow into anger._

_ "Bloodbiter, you know what to do!"_  
_ Bursts of bright blue flame. Shouting. Chaos._  
_ The girl's somehow freed herself from her bindings without him knowing and s__he escapes on the back of the beast. The ink-black creature swoops up into the sky, then dives back down and snatches Eret and pulls him up hundreds and hundreds of feet into the air._  
_ Panic and fear. Masked by anger. He sounds just a little pathetic._  
_ "No! No, damn you! Let me down, rider!" _  
_ The rider ignores him. Speaks instead to the dragon._  
_ "Bloodbiter, go!"  
__And they fly off so quickly, Eret cracks and actually begins begging for mercy.  
He isn't sure how far they go, or how long they fly._

_Before he realizes what's happening, the dragon is making to release him and so he braces himself for the fall, but...nothing. Dragon trapper opens his eyes and his head whips around and he realizes that he is high, high up and...is being tied rather tightly to the trunk of a sturdy tree by a pair of dexterous hands._  
_ "What can I say? I am a showman." a voice says, but there is no humor in its tone._  
_ It is the woman, securing a knot by his feet that will keep him from falling thousands of miles now to his death. Her face is obscured by her fur-lined hood, but Eret can just make out sharp eyes and dark hair. "Your men will come for you. If they can. No need to worry." _  
_ She laughs heartily then and hops lightly onto the back of her beast, just about to fly off and escape his clutches forever._  
_ Temper flares. Indignation and embarrassment go hand-in-hand._  
_ "We'll meet again, dragon rider! You've not seen the last of me, I swear it!" _  
_ The girl turns her head to look back over her shoulder. She is surprised at the challenge. Then, she grins, a shockingly non-hostile grin, considering the circumstances._  
_ "I look forward to it!"  
Then she really is gone._

_Suddenly breathless, __Eret can feel his heart pound in his chest faster and faster and faster.  
__Anger or excitement? He doesn't know.  
__But he watches her disappear with a new sense of determination; purpose. But first…_

_"Hello? Anybody there? Men! Cut me down!"_

* * *

"...It's been awhile, dragon rider." Eret says quietly.  
"It's been awhile, dragon _**trapper**._" Althea replies, more nastily than she intends. She pauses then, lets out a heavy sigh to calm herself, lifts her hand once again. And this time, Eret does not stop her as she presses the damp washcloth to his wound.  
"...You didn't recognize me." Althea says after a moment, ignoring the fact that Eret is staring at her; staring without even blinking and with his eyes wide open in disbelief, in fear, in wonder, in awe.  
"You were wearing a mask."  
Althea quirks a brow at him and her hand stops moving.  
"I took the mask off." she says pointedly.  
"And then you punched me."  
Her hands resume their work.  
"Fair enough, I suppose." Althea says with another sigh.

After a moment, she puts the bowl and cloth aside and begins unscrewing a small jar which she produces from her pocket. The stuff smells putrid, even by Eret's standards, but he trusts she won't try and poison him, at least, not yet, so he doesn't protest even as she dips her finger into the gel.

"...This may sting." Althea mutters, and then, she leans in close and begins to dab at his lip.

And Eret keeps watching her, all the while.

In the three years he has known her, this is the closest he has ever been able to get, though they had seen so much of each other over that time. And it seems so odd for him to see her here; no longer quite the mysterious, steadfast, untiring rival who appeared once in awhile just to torment him and his men, but an average villager of Berk...with a home and companions and a normal life; with dark patches and lines underneath now weary eyes and a scar he had never even noticed she'd had, running across her cheek.  
She feels much too real up close.

And suddenly, he can't stop the words from tumbling from his lips.  
"Aren't you going to kill me?..."  
Althea's eyes meet with his then and his blood runs cold at her unwavering gaze.  
"...Would you let me?" she asks evenly.  
And Eret wants to be the noble man and say that yes, he would in fact let her kill him, as he was quite sure that after what he'd done to her, he deserved it. But...-  
"No..." comes the honest answer.  
And Althea, to his surprise, almost smiles at that.

"All done." she announces, but her face is suddenly cold and stony once again as she collects her things. "If you're feeling better, you should go home. I'm not going to kill you, no matter how much I want to so you can rest easy."  
"Wait. Wait!" Eret struggles to sit up as she heads for the door. "You're..._**not**_ going to kill me?"

"...No." she says, but it pains her to say it. So Althea quickly turns, calls Bloodbiter after her, and both dragon and woman disappear out the door. But, of course, the dragon snarls at him first.

* * *

"Althea! You headed to see your sheep?"

It is Snotlout who obliviously calls over to her as she storms past the great hall later that morning, and Althea knows, she **_knows_** that her friend has done nothing to become the unwitting victim of her hostility. So she tries her hardest to repress the urge to hiss and growl and bark at him like some wild animal, especially in public.

"Just going to see how they've been." she answers with a strained smile.  
"You know, if you need help getting settled in again, i'm always ready and available."  
He grins at her. Althea snorts.

"Still haven't given that up yet?" she replies tiredly. He matches her pace as he lets out a chortle.  
"Me? Never. I never give up. Ever. You know? I'm like-"  
Althea finds herself interrupting before she can stop herself.  
"Yeah, I know. Thanks."  
She gives him a somewhat apologetic pat on his beefy arm, then steps past him, hoping he won't follow as she turns the corner near Gobber's home, but...no such luck. Still, she tells herself that she can handle this.

She just hopes that he doesn't-

"Well, hey, did you ever find that dragon trapper you were after?"

Althea immediately bites down on her lip viciously and waits a moment before braving an answer.

"Uh. Yes. Yes, I did."  
And at that, her companion perks up, nods, waits.  
"...And?" he urges, when she offers nothing.  
"And...what?"  
Ever the dramatic man, Snotlout stops walking altogether as he flashes her an exasperated look.

"And did you get him?" he exclaims, throwing his arms up in the air. "Cause, oh man, if that were me, I would take the guy's face and just...crush it. With my fist. Nobody messes with my dragon. I would make this guy hurt so bad he'd die. And then, i'd...bring him back to life and like, kill him all over again."  
And despite herself, even Althea can't help but laugh at that.  
"I'm sure you would." she agrees.

She watches as Snotlout brightens at the simple task of having made her laugh and suddenly, listening to his happy prattling feels a much less frustrating thing. Still, Althea can't help it if she's distracted by thoughts of the rather unpleasant surprise that had been waiting for her return to Berk.

"Snotlout...Why is Eret here?" she finally asks, when she is no longer able to contain her curiosity.  
The boy stops mid-sentence.  
"Eret?" he echoes, blinking in surprise.  
Althea nods, trying not to meet Snotlout's eyes. For a moment, she wonders if he'd caught on to the familiarity with which she had said his name by mistake, but thankfully, Snotlout just strokes his chin innocently as he thinks.  
"Well...He used to be a dragon trapper. Nearly turned all of us in to Drago, but then, oh man, you should have been there." he says excitedly. "All these weapons were like, pointed at him and Drago nearly killed us all but Astrid's dragon came from nowhere and just swooped in and totally protected him."

"...Stormfly did that?" Althea asks, voice quiet and unbelieving.  
Because she knows that Stormfly, much like her owner, is slow to trust and very good at picking out threats. Althea has seen constant proof of that since the day dragons had come to Berk, and that is precisely the reason why none of this makes an ounce of sense to her.

In all her years of knowing Eret, she had learned perhaps only one true thing about him; and it was that he was a coward.  
And cowardice always meant betrayal.

* * *

_"...Do you really mean it?"_  
_ Her eyes are surprisingly guarded; suspicious._  
_ "Yes." comes the answer._  
_ But he pauses before he says it, and Althea should understand what that means but she's too blinded by years' worth of adrenaline from playing cat-and-mouse with a stranger who had seemed completely harmless to her until just a few weeks ago, and she misses the signs completely. _  
_ Silence, in which he tries to read her face and she tries to read his._  
_ Finally, there's a smile. It's weak and hesitant and not quite trusting, but it is a smile nonetheless._  
_ And Eret feels both shame and relief at the sight of it. _  
_ "...Okay. Tonight then." _  
_ (He doesn't miss that trace of doubt, but he convinces himself that it isn't there.)  
_  
_ She turns to the sky and calls, "Bloodbiter!"_  
_ A roar. The flapping of heavy, scaly wings.  
__The huge creature appears out of nowhere and the sight never ceases to amaze him.  
__Althea mounts the beast and by the time she's properly seated, she is back to normal. No hint of unease or fear. This time, she smiles for real and says, "It looks like you'll be disappointing Drago Bludvist again, dragon trapper."  
__He brightens at the sound of their customary farewell, no longer said with a threatening edge or after a bloody bout involving daggers and spears and raised fists.  
__"I'll get you next time, rider." he says quietly.  
__Another pause.  
__"I'm sure you'll try."  
__He knows she may not quite suspect what, exactly, he's gotten her involved in, but the words smart and sting like a slap in the face nonetheless.  
__And so he comes that close to telling her.  
__But by the time he's made up his mind, the Nightfury has already leapt high into the air and taken off, leaving Eret alone to face the decision he's made._

_And this, this is the very last time she sees him._

* * *

"Althea? Uh...Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine." Althea snarls, shaking herself from the memory. She walks faster as they approach the far hills of the village, once again eager to be rid of company so she can finally think with a clear head. "Snotlout, don't you have anything-"  
But then, from the far side of Berk, there is a loud, echoing roar followed by thunderous cheers and applause.  
Althea stops in her tracks.  
"What was that?"  
"What do you mean 'what was'-" Snotlout begins to say with a laugh. Then, he seems to realize something and, pleased at the prospect of knowing something she doesn't, he smirks and says, almost to himself, "Heh. I forgot you left before someone thought it up."  
"Thought what up?"

"Uh. Dragon racing?" he replies, as if it is the most obvious answer in the world. "Which means you get the day off. Come on, let's go."  
Still not quite understanding, Althea remains rooted to her spot and simply frowns.  
"What are you talking about, Snotlout?"

"You know...you don't have to tend the sheep?" he offers, not very helpfully. He waits for her to understand but she doesn't. "You know, cause they've been using your sheep as a point count and all, ever since you-" he continues, but Althea is already storming back towards the stadium, obscenities streaming from her lips.

For a moment, Snotlout just watches in surprise as she goes. Then, he laughs and hurriedly chases after her.

* * *

_Thank you for reading! If you find the flashbacks confusing, please let me know!_


	3. Of All The Things He Learns

_How great is the HTTYD soundtrack though, amiright? It can pull inspiration from right out your arse-end. __On a more serious note, thank you, as always, to everyone taking the time to read, favorite, or review! This one's for all of you. Hope you enjoy!_

_Also, if the flashbacks ever start to confuse at any point, please do let me know! Also also, yes. The sheep have names that rhyme...Because i'm trash..._

* * *

"There you are! I almost thought you wouldn't make it." Astrid says, catching her friend the moment she storms into the keep beneath the training stadium. At her words, Althea stops, fury momentarily forgotten on her lips.  
"You...knew i'd come?" she asks instead.  
"Well, I figured you'd notice that your sheep were missing." Astrid laughs, nodding her head towards the far wall.  
That is when Althea notices her livestock, cornered together in a very uncomfortable looking contraption amid the hustle and bustle of the room.

"What are you doing with my sheep?..."  
Althea's voice is tinged with horror.  
"We're getting ready for the race." Astrid answers with another laugh. She grabs Althea's wrist eagerly. "And you, you're gonna join us."  
"Erm. Thanks, but...no...I don't even know what's going on really..."  
"Right. Look, don't worry about it. I'll explain." Astrid says dismissively. "Now come on."  
And before she can argue, Althea is led over to a workbench nearby where Bloodbiter is, to her surprise, waiting; wings painted, saddled, and all.

"Sit." Astrid commands, pointing to the wooden stump beside the stand.  
Grudgingly, Althea obeys and then Astrid turns her back just for a moment to grab two small ceramic pots of what seem to be paint off of the table. She dips her fingers into one of the jars and drags them across Althea's cheekbones as she speaks, leaving streaks of deep red and, with the other jar, stark white behind.  
"It's easy. Every couple of minutes, they launch a sheep into the air. Sometimes they hide them around the village, but trust me, the ones you have to catch are always worth more. Anyway, you and your teammate, in this case me, have to work together to get the sheep into your goal." she explains hurriedly. Astrid tilts her head back to examine her work and then, after a moment, nods with satisfaction. "We usually play a singles free-for-all." she continues. "But now that you're here, we can have four even teams."

"You guys launch my sheep into the air? And then you toss them around?"  
Althea is clearly quite nonplussed to hear this, but Astrid simply gives a somewhat sheepish shrug of her shoulders.

"After the threat of dragons disappeared, everyone kind of...I don't know. Needed a hobby."  
And Althea begins to protest this vehemently, but suddenly, the blaring of a horn sounds from somewhere above them and she is cut short.  
"Time to get started!" Astrid sings. "Look, don't worry. Just trust your instincts. You know you've got good ones and besides, every other opponent going out there is a friend, anyway. You'll be great." she promises.  
And then, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl is off.

Althea sighs as she watches her friend go.  
"What do you think? Are you up for it?" Althea asks Bloodbiter wryly.  
The black dragon blinks her large eyes once, perks up, and lets out a pleasant trill in assent. And Althea laughs.  
"Alright then. Let's win this...Whatever this is."

* * *

After Althea mounts Bloodbiter, she joins all the competitors at the mouth of the entrance, then follows them as they take off, spurred on by the cheering of the crowd, and all flock to what appears to be their respective goalposts. To her great relief, the other players really are all familiar faces. There is Astrid, of course. Then, Ruffnut and Tuffnut (although judging by the colors of their facepaint, they are, quite surprisingly, on opposite teams). There is also Fishlegs, Snotlout, Hiccup, and…  
Eret.  
Althea's eyes narrow.  
She may not have Chief Hiccup's express permission to do away with the traitor, but she'll be damned if she lets him take even this victory from her.

The village elder raises her staff and then, Gobber's unmistakable voice rings out.  
"Riders! On your mark!"  
Everyone shifts in their seats.  
"Get set!"  
Dragons crouch, prepared to leap into the air.  
"Go!"  
And then there is chaos.

All eight riders bee-line for the unfortunate sheep that now springs up miles high.  
And as Bloodbiter darts ahead to overtake them, Althea sees Astrid give her a sharp, business-like nod before she turns to hover over their goalpost, clearly trusting Althea to be able to swipe the sheep out from under everyone else's noses.  
"Bloodbiter, go down!" Althea commands over the sound of the villagers cheering and shouting.  
The dragon lets out a small cry of assent, then swoops down underneath all others, gaining speed as she goes and allowing Althea to reach out her arms and catch the heavy animal in her arms.  
The sheep lets out a dissatisfied balk.  
"I'm sorry, Mili!" Althea says. And then, Althea raises the creature above her head and tosses it towards Astrid with all her might, praying that her friend will catch the poor thing.

_Ding!_

"Yes! First point of the game is ours! How do you like that, Hiccup?" Astrid shouts.  
She circles around the stadium, rousing the already excited crowd from their seats, touching their hands, and blowing exaggerated kisses, and Althea laughs at that. She can't help it. The game is so utterly ridiculous and yet so freeing.  
Here, she can fly as high and as fast as she can. And she is not in danger.

"Don't rest easy just yet, Astrid! We'll catch up. Just you wait and see!"

Althea nearly falls out of her seat.  
In all her excitement, she had nearly forgotten about Eret entirely.  
But she has no time to dwell on that because just then, another sheep flies into the air with a loud shout from Gobber and, before anyone else has gathered their bearings, Bloodbiter is already off.

"Sorry Althea!"  
It is Hiccup who reaches the sheep seconds before she does, and Toothless who gives her his upside-down-toothless grin as they leave her in the dust.  
"After them, Bloodbiter! Let's go!"  
And the dragon circles the village, spirals into the sky and she is so close to reaching them, but then...  
Althea's fist clenches in disappointment as she sees her sheep being passed to none other than Eret himself.

Thankfully, seconds later, Astrid appears seemingly out of nowhere and intercepts another pass back to Hiccup.  
"Gotta be faster than that, babe!" she calls to him with a laugh.  
Stormfly swoops through the air toward where Bloodbiter is now hovering and then Astrid lofts the sheep through the air and-  
"Sorry. No mercy, even for you." a voice says.

Althea's head whips to her side and there, she sees** _him _**again, grinning at her with **_her_** sheep in his bulky arms.  
He takes off toward the goal.  
And suddenly, blood pulsing with anger and determination, Althea gives Bloodbiter a gentle pat on the side of her neck.  
"You know what to do, don't you?"  
And the dragon lets out a showy roar before pushing straight towards Althea's enemy.  
"Just a little bit closer!" Althea shouts.  
Inch by desperate inch, second by precious second, the dragon obliges.  
And then, Althea sucks in a breath…

And lunges from the back of Bloodbiter.

The crowd lets out a collective shriek.

But Althea does not drop. She clings fast to any part of Skullcrusher that she can (his leg) and then she begins to clamber up Skullcrusher's side and Eret finally glances back and realizes her plan.  
"No mercy works just fine for me." Althea breathes.  
And then, she swipes the sheep from his arms before he can stop her and...she falls; plunging towards the ground at breakneck speed and screaming louder than she ever knew she could.

"Althea!" she hears Eret yell, with surprising concern.

"Are you crazy?!" Astrid cries.

But just then, Althea senses Bloodbiter swoop down underneath her and just a few trite feet from the ground, Althea lands with a heavy and painful thud onto the creature's back, holding the sheep protectively away from her body so poor Kili won't get squashed.  
Her arms shake and her palms are sweating buckets but still, she laughs in sweet, unbelievable relief as the Nightfury soars back upward into the sky where Althea feels safest.  
"Thank you." she whispers breathlessly to the dragon, as the crowd lets out a deafening applause. She takes another moment to collect herself and then Althea sits herself back upright and continues sternly, "But you cut it kind of close that time, Bloodbiter."  
The dragon just turns its head back towards her rider and smiles her own endearing toothless smile before veering towards the goal.

The game continues on in this fashion for what feels like a good hour, though nothing else quite so frightening happens during the remainder of the tournament.  
Althea and Astrid earn another point.  
Ruffnut and Fishlegs earn one.  
Hiccup and Eret earn three, all in a row.  
Althea and Astrid earn one.  
Snotlout and Tuffnut earn one.  
And so on.

By the end of all the excitement, Althea and Astrid win by a paltry two points awarded due to their acquisition of the prized black sheep. And even then, Althea suspects it has more to do with the fact that the black sheep, _**her**_ sheep, had bitten down on Althea's hood in fear and refused to let up, even when Ruffnut had been tugging with all her might. Still, a win is a win.

"I told you it was fun." Astrid says breathlessly, once all the players have flown once around the stadium to signify the end of the game and returned to the keep.

Althea laughs.

"Fine, you were right." she relents. Then, a touch more seriously, "But next time, at least ask me before you try to subject poor Kili and Mili to this kind of torture." she says, giving the pair of very shaken sheep a few gentle pats on their heads.

Her friend grins. "Deal. Now come on. Let's go get some food, i'm starving."

* * *

The village hall is far less crowded today than the previous night, as it is just an average day in Berk and most people opt to have supper with their families in the comfort of their own homes rather than with the village chief and his group of misfit friends.  
Everybody likes Hiccup well enough, of course, but they have other people to eat with and that is that.

"Have I told you you look fantastic today?"  
"Ugh."  
"What is the matter with you? She tried to drown you, Snotlout."  
"Only out of lov- ow! Hey!"  
"Astrid..."  
"What? It was...a friendly punch."

Althea leaves the others behind as they laugh and talk among themselves, and she takes her bowl of stew to the table nearest the fire. The adrenaline from the race has left her long ago by now and Althea finds that she can't help but wonder if returning to Berk had been the right thing to do after all.

Because she had thought that growing up was supposed to make her feel it less. But it is still there. And stronger than ever before.

Once, just once, Althea peeks over to see her friends listening with rapt attention to something Hiccup's mother is saying, but the sight of it makes her feel like something's grasping at her heart and squeezing much too tightly and so she stuffs some bread into her mouth and tries to shut all of it out.

* * *

_Sweat trickles down his brow. His arm aches. Tomorrow, it'll be a nasty bruise.  
__Still, he struggles against her. He wriggles this way and that, kicks his legs in a way no dignified man of his stature would, but she has him pinned to the floor, dagger against his neck.  
__"Give up yet?" she pants.  
__They have fought. He has gone through the act of trying to capture her. He can say honestly (for the most part, at least) that he has tried to do his duty._

_So he nods as best he can, paying no mind to the destruction of his dignity in exchange for some welcome rest, and she__ smiles at the comfort of their usual turn. Althea rolls off of him, sits a little ways off, leaving a defined space between them as she always does, and then she props one leg up so she can rest her arm against it and wipe the sweat from her brow._

_But then, she notices that her companion is still on his back and is not moving to get up. After one curious glance, she slowly lies down again, too._

_Side-by-side.  
__Both of them trying to calm their rapid breathing.  
__Complete silence otherwise._

_They are tired and the cold air is so very wonderful.  
__The campfire crackling just a few feet away is comforting.  
__They could almost...  
__...drift off...  
__...to...  
__...slee-  
__"Why do you do what you do?"_

_The question, as softly and quietly as it had been spoken, startles him awake._

_Because despite what they've become over the weeks, each of them alone can __never try to cross that invisible wall- the one that separates him from her and her from him; the one that they are usually content to ignore, the one that keeps them always apart, always on edge, carefully avoiding any gentle touches, intimate glances, prying questions, in fear of the repercussions that a single toe out of line may spark._

_And so they are each other's comfort, despite being trapped on opposite ends of a stage they themselves have set with snares and traps and catches._

_When they fight, it is different. He is just doing his job. And she is just trying to save her own skin. Their bodies collide, his skin presses against hers, but neither of them think anything of it.  
__They are enemies.  
__And when he aims a dagger at her and she swings her axe at him, they are sure of it._

_Still, Eret ponders the question. Why does he do what he does?_

_"Because of my father, I suppose." he answers despite himself. "...Never knew anything else."  
__Dragon rider nods.  
__Dragon trapper blinks._

_"...What about your mother?"  
_

_"I don't have one."_

_More silence._

_"Me either."_

_He wants so badly to ask.  
__But when he turns his head to do so, he sees that she is already curled up on her side, hood up, with her back faced toward him.  
__She is sleeping soundly._

_And so he lets the question rest too, for now._

* * *

"Althea."

Althea recognizes the voice almost immediately. But she doesn't want to be hearing it, so pretends she hasn't.

"Althea." he says again.

Silence.

"Look, I just..."

"What do you want?" Althea sighs at last.

The man, startled by the exasperation in her tone, says nothing. He simply stands there rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

But then, he straightens and rather decisively sits himself down across from her despite the irritation written across her features. He glances at her once, gauging the chances of her chasing him away.

Fortunately for him, she is too tired to try and do so.

Instead, Althea loses herself in her thoughts. She traces the wooden grain of the table with her finger absently, raises her mug to her lips but never drinks, stirs her supper around with her spoon but doesn't eat...And Eret watches her every so often, wondering why he can't speak.

Because, though she would deny it, he knows that there are some things he _**does**_ understand about her.  
Perhaps better than anyone else on Berk.

* * *

_"What about you...?"_

_Voice quiet, careful._

_It's been months since she asked him. But still, he knows and she knows what it is he's trying to piece together._

_Voice quiet, uncaring._

_"Dead...Dragons did it."_

_Silence; it is becoming more and more common when they meet at night, as the rest of the world is growing ever louder._

_"...You have no one?"_

_She nods._

_"No one."_

_Except for you, she wants to add._

_She doesn't._

* * *

Without warning, Althea rises to her feet, knocking her chair back with the force of her actions.

"Where are you going?" Eret asks, startled. Something in his voice is desperate to keep her but Althea just stares at him blankly.

"Home."

And with that, she heads for the door, leaving all the trappings of companionship behind.

* * *

"Come on, Mili. Don't be stubborn." Althea sighs as she gently urges her sheep back into the pen that stretches around her hut.

Althea's home is a humble one, but it is settled on a good hill with the greenest grass in Berk; perfect for raising happy (for the most part) and healthy sheep. Her home, however, is also the one built furthest from anyone else's.  
This, of course, means that if Althea intends to make it to her nightly round of training with Bloodbiter and be back home before dawn, her sheep will have to stop being cross with her and follow orders.

"I've already apologized for today. What more can I do?" Althea sighs. Mili just continues to nibble at the grass around her feet, a good distance out of her owner's reach.

"Look, you." Althea huffs. Her patience is wearing very thin now. "Don't make me bring Bloodbiter and train **_here_**."

After a moment's hesitation, and another rather pointed bite of grass, Mili finally plods over to the gate and allows Althea to shut it behind her. She bleats as she goes over to join the rest of the flock, but doesn't protest when Althea brushes her fingers against her wool as she goes.  
"Stubborn sheep." Althea grumbles affectionately.

Then, she quickly heads back into her house to grab her weapons which she straps all about her person: a pair of axes, a sword sheathed on a belt at her hips, a pair of daggers tucked into her boots, and a bow slung across her chest with a quiver hanging over her right shoulder.

As she walks through the town, led by the torches that light Berk at night, nobody spares her much of a glance.  
A few people mumble a polite hello, but after, they quickly turn away and pretend to be busy or tired or ridiculously involved in some conversation.  
Althea isn't surprised that nothing has changed in the time she's been away.  
Berk is a village that's always been slow at that.

Her parents; her family had died during a dragon attack. And she had survived.  
She had only been a child when it happened, but it didn't stop people from doubting her and hating her and blaming her; for being the reason that the beloved Cross family had fallen.  
Because her family had done so much to protect the people, and she had done nothing.

And then, as if that hadn't been enough, one day, Hiccup had announced to the village that he had found one; another Nightfury. And when it came time to decide its rider, it, _**she**_, had chosen Althea. Bloodbiter had chosen, against all odds and all reason, someone who hated dragons and wanted nothing to do with them and spent all her spare time hunting them down or fighting someone else who wanted to bring them to Berk.  
And, of course, that hadn't settled well at all with the people either.

"Evening, Cross." a thickly accented voice rumbles.  
The man, as tall and sturdy and gruff as he seems, avoids her eyes as he stumbles past her uncomfortably.  
Althea just nods and continues on her way, against the cold, salty air blowing in from the sea.

* * *

Althea shivers and sighs with warmth once she arrives inside of the dimly lit keep and she quickly shuts the heavy doors behind her to prevent any of that delicious heat from escaping.  
Then, she turns and gives a low, soft whistle to call her dragon to her from wherever she was, no doubt, hiding or napping this time.  
Within moments, Althea hears a light shuffling noise and she feels something give her a hard shove from behind.  
"Bloodbiter," Althea laughs as she nearly topples over. She turns to give her dragon a pat on the head...

And gasps in surprise.

"Skullcrusher." she breathes, once she recognizes the enormous creature blinking at her in the dark. "...And Eret." she adds dryly.

Eret frowns.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

For once, he seems just as unenthusiastic about seeing her as she is to see him, and that is all fine and well to her.

"What are **_you_** doing here?" Althea replies suspiciously. A horrid thought suddenly strikes her and she looks this way and that, more nervously than Eret has ever seen her. "Where...Where's my dragon?...She should be here. What did you do to her now, dragon trapper? If you've so much as touched her, this time, I _**will**_ kill you even if i've-"

A pleasant cooing interrupts her.

It is Bloodbiter, of course.

Althea nearly collapses with relief.

"...Get over here, you lazy bum." she says, but she throws her arms around Bloodbiter's neck and the dragon nuzzles Althea closer, eyes closed.  
"...I don't actually work with Drago anymore, in case you weren't aware." Eret says quietly as he watches this happen.  
Althea laughs cruelly at this, the unwelcome presence- the poison, the stranger, the sickness in her life.  
"You've tried to sell me that lie before, dragon trapper."

The man just sighs. He feels braver now that it is just the two of them, as Bloodbiter has run off with Skullcrusher to play.  
"It's Eret, you know. My name."  
Althea tries to quell the building wrath inside of her.  
"Whatever it is, it has nothing to do with me." she hisses through her teeth.

"Look, like it or not, dragon rider, we're both part of this village now. And that means-"  
"It means nothing!" Althea erupts, shocking both Eret and the dragons into complete stillness. "Have you forgotten what you've done to me? I agreed not to kill you, but forgiving you, talking to you, being **_friends_**," she spits. "that wasn't part of the deal." Althea swallows then, a hard lump beginning to form in her throat, and she tries not to look as pathetic as she feels as she whispers, "...So why is it that you keep showing up everywhere I go? Why do you keep making this harder for me?..."

And to this, Eret has no reply.

Because it is just beginning to dawn on him that the dragon rider had cared as much for him as he had for her; as much as he had never believed she **_could_** care for him.

And instead of keeping that close, he had ruined her.

* * *

_So sorry for the angst..._


	4. Of Truths And Wandering Touches

Back again! I'm trying to get as many updates in before the hell that is school starts again...Ugh. Lawd, help me.

Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to read! I really, really hope you guys enjoy it!

* * *

_This is the day that changes everything:_

_Sitting by the fire, trying to keep the biting cold at bay. He whittles, distracted, and his calloused fingers unknowingly carve out a small wooden figurine. Of a dragon.  
__Every few seconds, Eret finds himself glancing up at the sky.  
__Whittle, look, whittle, glance, whittle, pause, look…_

_His men notice the odd behavior.  
__But no one says a word about it.  
__They chalk it up to irritation and anxiety. Nothing else.  
_

_It's almost time for her to show up, you see. Every two weeks just like clockwork, that one...Ever since that first time they'd met.  
__He tells himself, and his men, that he isn't quite sure how she always finds him. (But deep down, he knows it's because he might be growing just little more careless with his tracks than is wise.)  
__And so wherever he travels, she follows, eventually.  
She appears, right out of the sky just to vex them, and when she's had her fill of laughter, when she's kidnapped Eret and hidden him somewhere difficult for his men to find, she flies off just as easily as she has come, leaving behind just a bit of harmless destruction in her wake._

_A distant roar.  
A familiar laugh startles him out of his reverie.  
__Eret tears his body away from the fire, gets to his feet, brushes off the snow. He barks orders at his men as he always does, but today, he has a spring in his step and a glint in his eye and he feels more alive right now than he's ever felt before.  
_

_"Ready yourselves, lads!"_

_The dragon lands with a great heavy fwhump!, sending snow in all directions, and the rider pulls her fur-lined hood back with a flourish. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold. _

_"Back so soon, dragon rider?"__  
Eret tries for an arrogant smirk as he faces her, sword in hand.  
__"I'm not much for words, trapper. Either try and capture us or don't."  
__"You have too much time on your hands."  
She laughs at that.  
__"What can I say? Bloodbiter here has missed you." She winks. "So have I."  
"You...What? No! I-...I know what it is you're doing, rider! And i'm not falling for..."  
__"Hm. Things seem a bit slower round here than usual." Althea mumbles, even as Eret continues to bluster through words. Then, she starts to grin. "Suppose i'll have to make the first move this time. Ready, Bloodbiter?"  
__The dragon chirps.  
"Let's go!"_

_With one mischievous flick of her tail, it begins.  
An entire small mountain of snow hits Eret right in the face as he's still speaking and before anyone can react, Althea and Bloodbiter are already soaring high, high up in the air, awaiting retaliation.  
__"What are you all doing standing around? Launch the nets!" Eret commands.  
__"Stop them!" Althea counters.  
__Bloodbiter swoops down low and fires at one of the wooden devices which explodes in a cloud of smoke. A few of the trappers cry out in fear as splinters and bits of hot metal rain down onto their heads.  
__"Hurry, men! Don't let her get all of them!"  
__"Up, Bloodbiter!" Althea yells.  
__The dragon obeys and as she spirals around the camp, she spits another ball of bright blue flame.  
__More shouts. More chaos.  
__"That's two already!" Althea laughs to Eret as she whizzes by.  
__Eret growls in determination as he watches her go. Suddenly, an idea comes to him.  
__And as his companions finally gather their bearing and the first nets and spears go flying through the air towards her, Eret sprints a little ways out and he scrambles up a far ledge, and he watches.  
He knows he has to time this just right._

_"She's coming back around!" someone warns._  
_"Put out that fire!"  
_"_Find me those spare nets!"_  
_"Aw, come on, boys! You'll have to do better than that against a Nightfury!"  
Her voice is warm with mirth._

_Eret swallows, focuses in._  
_And then, just as Althea and Bloodbiter are sweeping near the ground, Eret braces himself, goes charging towards her as fast as he can, leaps off the edge, and-_  
_"No, no, no! What do you think you're do- Gah!"  
__-tackles Althea clean off.  
_

_They both go sliding across the ice._

_"...Ugh. You're as solid as a brick wall, i'll give you that." Althea groans, in too much pain to even attempt to sit up just yet.  
Eret groans too.  
He hadn't considered the chances of their knocking heads together on the way down a serious enough danger, apparently.  
It is quiet for another moment.  
And then, suddenly, Althea is laughing. And after awhile, Eret finds that he is too.  
It starts as a nervous titter. Then it grows and builds and bubbles over, stronger and louder, until it is well and full and true, and they laugh and they laugh until their sides are aching and tears are streaming from Althea's eyes.  
And finally, when they've grown calm again, Althea props herself up on one elbow and turns to him. _

_"Tell me your name, dragon trapper." she says.  
__And dragon trapper knows he shouldn't answer. He can't, he won't, it'd be-  
"Eret. And yours?"  
__"...Althea."  
He stretches out his hand to give hers a shake and she obliges him, and that is all fine and well. But suddenly, she is smiling and so is he and his eyes look into hers and..._

_He goes still, not even daring to breathe for the fear of breaking this fragile new thing between them, and it is the same for her.  
They both hold for just a second longer.  
__And then, her eyes are scared and uncertain, darting this way and that and seeing anything but him. __  
_

_All at once, she tears away from him, pushes herself onto her feet, and backs away slowly.  
He blinks.  
And then she turns and takes off through the snow without so much as another word, and Eret just stares down at his hand in wonder at the kind of trouble he suspects that this one thoughtless, careless touch has brought down upon him.  
_

_Still, over the next two weeks, Eret can't help but constantly wonder over whether or not that is the last he'll ever see of her.  
But a fortnight passes and to his surprise, she **does** come again, and sometimes, after that, he goes to her instead._

_Sometimes, they don't try to kill each other._

_But unless they are, he doesn't touch her again. And she is just fine with that._

* * *

"Althea…"  
"Don't," she snaps, yanking her arm out of his reach. "say my name anymore. You have no right."  
"I know, I just…" Eret says after a moment's pause. He wrings his left hand around his right wrist and looks down at the floor. "I just...want you to understand..."  
"'Understand?' Is there something i'm missing?" Althea pleads doubtfully. "Because I thought it was simple; you betrayed me, Eret."

Hot tears blur her sight and a moment too late, Althea realizes that she is crying.  
And she detests crying more than nearly anything else in the world so she turns away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands in shame.

"...I _**am**_ sorry…" Eret says hopelessly but, of course, that is not enough.  
And so, he thinks 'to hell with it all', and begins pulling at the ties at his waist decisively. His fur vest comes off first. He lets it drop to the floor then starts to work on peeling off his tunic as well.  
"What...What are you doing...?"  
Wordlessly, Eret continues his work. And when, finally, he is stripped of everything but his trousers and footwear, he turns.

Althea gasps.

Because, stretched across the canvas of his entire back, are marks left from Eret's old life all criss-crossed over each other, the old buried underneath the countless new; thick ropy scars and mottled purple bruises and thin short scars and blistered skin and raw red welts. And most of these injuries are not from dragons.

It is not half as bad as what she has suffered. Althea _**knows**_ that to be true. But still...

She takes a slow step forward. She lifts her hand, gently presses her fingers against his ruined skin, and she feels him tense underneath her familiar touch. Because oh, it has been far, far too long since the last time he has felt that touch, with all the tenderness that it can allow.

"Was this a punishment?" Althea murmurs, resting her traveling finger at one particularly nasty-looking scar. "Or...a pastime?"  
Not wanting to startle her out of her kindness, Eret does not move as he replies "My guess would be both."  
The warmth of her touch is gone now, and Eret mourns the loss of it as he turns to look at her once again.  
"...You never told me."  
"I didn't want to." he answers with a wry laugh. "My pride being what it was..."

And at this, she softens, just a whit.  
"We knew so little of each other, didn't we?..." she says. "I mean, beyond the faces we put on..."

For a moment, as he watches her become the person he once knew, the one without the hardness in her face and the absence in her eyes, Eret** _hopes_**.  
But Althea feels his gaze on her and she looks back and it only makes her guilty to think she weakened for a moment.

"...Bloodbiter!"  
Althea's sharp voice cuts through the stillness and a moment later, the black dragon bounds over from where she and Skullcrusher have been playing. The creature sits back on its haunches and tilts its head inquisitively with its tongue hanging out and at the sight of it, Althea feels her will turn to iron once again.  
"Let's get home." she murmurs.

* * *

"Okay, level with me here." Astrid says, barging into Althea's home the very next morning, bright and early. "What is going on with you and Eret?"  
Althea blinks, appalled at the intrusion, and right as she is lifting a spoon to her mouth during breakfast, too.

"...You want some?" Althea asks, after a moment passes.  
"No, I don't want some." Astrid says pointedly at her friends half-hearted attempt at evasion. "When you left the village, you said you were after a dragon trapper. Hiccup just told me it was Eret."  
Althea sighs at this, chews on her lip for a good long while. And, just as Astrid is about to shake her for her stubborn silence, Althea finally answers in a small voice, "...It was...Has he told anyone else yet?"

"No. But he's going to talk to Eret about it right now." Astrid replies. She pulls out the empty chair across from Althea and sits. "Look, I know it's probably hard for you to believe, but Eret is different now. Whatever he did to you, he won't do it again, so if that's what you're scared of, you shouldn't be."  
"I'm not scared, Astrid. I'm mad." Althea answers, each syllable deliberate and precise.  
"Why?"  
"Because I chased him down for an entire year!" Althea very nearly shouts. And the rest of the words quickly tumble from her lips before she can stop them. "I tried to. Never found him. Came back home only to learn that the very same steaming heap of dragon dung that i've been trying to hunt down is living in my village! And so I go to the chief, of course, because that's what you do when you learn that a criminal is walking around in broad daylight, but this chief? He tells you that the criminal is, in fact, a friend and he says that no, you're not allowed to throttle him and he asks you to try and get along. But you know, that's hard, Astrid. That's really, really hard. So of course, I try to avoid this person because that, that's the next sensible thing to do. But he's _**everywhere**_."

"So what, then? Are you just gonna disappear for_** weeks at a time **_without saying anything the way you always used to?" Astrid demands, temper flaring. "Because, you know, you're such an expert at keeping to yourself that nobody ever notices!"

Althea falls silent.  
And for the first time in her life, Astrid sees what Althea looks like when she's wounded.  
Once she gets over the surprise, guilt claws at her insides.

"I'm sorry...That was out of line." Astrid sighs. "It's just, look, Althea. This has always been your problem. You think people are worse than they are. You think they have some problem with you and you might be right, but they'll never think otherwise unless you stay put and let them know you."

Althea doesn't speak for a moment more.

"...Eret knew me. He knew me and all that did was get me captured."  
"Captured?" Astrid frowns, because this is all news to her. "Captured by who?"  
"...Drago Bludvist."  
All the air leaves Astrid's lungs.  
"What?..." she gasps. "When? What happened?"  
And so Althea finally tells someone the story.

By the end of it, Astrid is sitting there in complete silence, her horror showing all over her face.  
It is a long while after before she says anything.

"I am so, so, so, _**so**_...sorry Althea...I...I should have gone looking for you..." Astrid whispers. "That entire month, I just thought-..."  
She glances up at her friend shamefully, finally understanding the hurt at her previous words.  
"...that I wasn't here because i'm never here..." Althea says with a half-hearted laugh. "I know...I don't blame you. There's no way you could have known."

"But you protected all of us." Astrid shakes her head. "Don't you understand what this means? If you had caved, if you had told Drago about Hiccup, about where you learned to ride, he would have come after us before we were ready and everything would have been different."  
"I'm not some hero, Astrid." Althea frowns. She shifts uncomfortably under the intensity of her friend's stare. "I could have warned you about Drago before I left Berk, too, but I didn't."  
But Astrid is no longer listening.  
"If we told the village," she mutters. "if they knew what Eret did, what _**you**_ did-"

And at this, Althea has to intervene.  
"Astrid, you can't tell." she interrupts desperately. "You can't tell anyone any of this. Promise me."  
"Why not?" Astrid questions.  
"...Because." Against her will, Althea's mind wanders back to Eret's wounds- in particular, the ones that had just been starting to heal. "...Because it would only stir up an unnecessary fuss."

Astrid watches her for a few seconds, knowing that this is not the real reason.  
But she is in no place to pry any further.  
"Alright, I won't tell. But I _**am **_talking to that 'steaming heap of dragon dung'." she quotes with a small smile.  
And before Althea can stop that too, Astrid is gone.

Later that morning, she bangs her head against a post repeatedly, and Bloodbiter meanders in at all the racket. Her huge eyes wander up, then wander down, then wander up, then wander down again in confusion.  
"What do you think? Did I do the right thing?" Althea wonders, more to herself than to the dragon. She sighs and glances downward. "...Could you forgive me for not wanting the world to know?..."  
The Nightfury bumps her leg sympathetically. Althea gives the creature a loving pat on her nose.

* * *

_Reviews, feedback, or constructive criticism would be so, so lovely!_


	5. Of Odd Parades And Crossing Lines

_School tomorrow...Nooo...  
_  
_Thank you so much for taking the time to read, everyone! I hope you enjoy!  
__(And a special thank you to I Have Gone Away for your lovely reviews. They are the light of my life. No, really. They are.)__  
_

* * *

"Morning there, Althea!" a jubilant voice cries.  
"Morning, Gobber." comes the reply.  
And then the dragon rider turns to continue on her march through the village, but the stout viking's bushy, blonde brows draw together, clearly dissatisfied.  
"What, is that it? Come on. Come over and give this old man a good and proper greeting, will you?"  
"Erm...Now's not really a good time..." Althea calls back from across the path.  
"Ohh. _**Well**_ then. Is that how it is?" Gobber drawls, in an over-dramatic pout. "Fine. I get it. Be on your way."  
He waves his bad arm at her and then starts to hobble away on his false leg as poorly as he can.  
And so, with a heavy sigh, Althea trudges back over to the workshop, trailed by ten sheep and a dragon, all appearing one-by-one from behind the cover of Bucket's rather colorfully painted home.

"Oh. I, ah, see..."  
Gobber laughs skittishly as the entire group starts to push and nudge their way inside the already cramped space of the shop, despite Althea's insistence on their staying outside.  
The stubborn animals never _**did**_ listen to her when it mattered.  
There's a distinct crash from somewhere far inside the dim, stuffy room, followed by several startled bleats from both Ili and Mili, and Althea tries to look apologetic.  
"Well, no use moping over a lost teacup. It'll be just fine." Gobber chortles with a wave of his good arm. "We'll ask Hiccup to clean that up later, I think."  
"Oh, you'll do no such thing." a new voice interrupts.

It is Valka who stands there when they both turn to look, and suddenly, Althea wishes she were anywhere but here.  
"Hello, Valka!" Gobber says cheerily.  
But the intimidating woman just continues staring with a stern eye, hands on her hips, and Gobber eventually gives in and wanders off with a broom in hand, though he mutters something under his breath, too. When he is out of sight, Valka breaks out into a warm laugh.  
"It always takes me by surprise." she says fondly. "Berk is so different, and yet, it's hardly changed."  
Althea tries to smile.  
And then, the towering woman turns her gaze on Bloodbiter. "Now you be a good dragon and take these sheep back outside."  
Bloodbiter obeys with a happy chirrup.  
"Oh, she's a dear, isn't she?" Valka croons. She smiles endearingly as the Nightfury herds the little woolen disasters of breeding out, and then, she clears a table and lays a heavy stack of leathers down, ready to start her day of work making more comfortable saddles and armor for the dragons of Berk.  
For a moment, Althea thinks that maybe, if she's lucky, Valka will let her escape along with Bloodbiter. She edges towards the door.

"You're a Cross, aren't you?"  
Althea jumps in shock at the sudden question.  
"What? Oh...Yes. Um. I'm Althea."  
Valka nods, and the way she does is it is somehow both eager and dignified- more dragon than human, and Althea can't help but relax just a little. "I could tell the moment I saw you."  
"Well, of course you could tell." Gobber answers. He ducks underneath some contraption hanging from the ceiling to rejoin them. "She's just the spitting image of her mother, isn't she?"

Althea blanches.  
This is the first time anyone's made such casual mention of her family.  
"That, she is." Valka agrees, oblivious to the surprise on the younger woman's features. She pulls a leather from the top of her pile and begins smoothing it out beside another, apparently ready to dive into a story, and Althea wonders if she can even bear to hear it.  
She doesn't want to, but her feet remain rooted to the ground.

"Your parents were the strangest people on Berk." Valka starts, threading a needle with some white string. Gobber nods emphatically in the background. "Did you know that your father, one of the burliest men in the village, used to carry a pouch of flower petals everywhere he went?" She utters a laugh. "He always had some clinging to his beard, probably because he'd throw them around so often- 'whenever there was a cause to celebrate', _**he'd**_ say."  
Althea had not, in fact known that.  
But, she thinks with a grimace, at least now she knows where she'd gotten her early dramatic flair.  
"Oh, and your mother. She certainly was a piece of work, too..." Valka leans in close to her work for a stitch, and then says, "In battle, whenever things would get too serious or frightening or hopeless, the both of them would toss a handful of flowers over whatever sorry fool was around and they'd charge in to take them down, striking poses and pretending to be heroes of old. Everyone thought they were absolutely mad." For a moment, the woman begins to smile, but then, her forehead creases and she blinks her large green eyes and her hands go still.  
"They detested dragons...But even so, I know they'd be proud to see you, their daughter, riding a Nightfury."

Gobber snorts his agreement.  
"They'd probably have painted your dragon's wings every morning and painted themselves to match."  
"...I was sorry to hear that they'd died. They were dear friends of everyone here. They could make even old man Mildew laugh and he was ten times as rancid as he is now."

Althea isn't sure why she does what she does then.  
It may be because of the comforting inhumanness in Valka's manner. It is true, after all, that past a certain point in her life Althea had started to find it easier being around dragons than people.  
Then again, maybe it's just that she's been starved of any kind of genuinely good human interaction for far too long and is just now realizing the ravenous need she has for it.  
Nevertheless, she finds herself asking, "...Can you tell me more about them?"

Valka's eyes widen in surprise, then she pats her hand against the stool beside her and smiles.

* * *

_What they are, it has become as easy and intuitive as breathing.  
They don't even have to think about where the boundaries lie when they are together. Not anymore. Because if ever dragon rider or trapper lingers dangerously on the verge of crossing that line, sheer impulse always pulls them back.  
__That is what keeps the secret of their meetings safe, after all._

_But it is with a great anguish and unforgiving desperation that they fight now, because there are months-and-months worth of words buried underneath each swing of a sword and slash of a dagger- words that will never be said, questions that will never be asked, stories that will never be known._

_"Your aim is getting worse." Althea laughs breathlessly._  
_With a snarl, he punches at her face but she is suddenly behind him.  
He whirls, dodges a feral lunge for his neck, blocks a jab at his side, and then...  
"Ah!" Eret cries.  
He crumples to the ground in pain as the rocky cavern wall makes contact with his back.  
"What? What just happened? Are you alright?"  
The fight suddenly over, dragon rider rushes to his side and her eyes flitter over him in panic for the source of the pain.  
But he cannot tell her.  
He cannot show her the ragged red skin of his back._

_Slowly, deliberately, he relaxes the lines of his face._  
_And then he forces a laugh, as if it is all just a joke, and her shoulders drop in relief as she believes the deception._  
_She gives him a solid whack in the shoulder as he turns himself over and rests, not on his back as usual, but on his hands._  
_"Unreal." Althea huffs in annoyance, but she settles as close to him as she dares anyway.  
They fall into their usual silence._

_And then, for the remainder of their time together, they sit side-by-side near the mouth of the cave and they look out at the frozen, still world that lies just beyond where they are. And each of them, they play out conversations in their heads, conversations that they would be having out loud if they could.  
__She'd ask about his life; about what it had been like, growing up with a father in the service of Drago Bludvist and with no mother to speak of.  
She imagines he'd tell her quite a harrowing story._

_He'd ask about her life, too; about where she's from, if, indeed, she **is** from anywhere. Then he'd ask about her own family, and then something about her fears and hopes and dreams, and of course he'd ask about the dragon too, eventually.  
_  
_He would ask anything and everything, if only he could._

_But then, out of the corner of his eye, Eret sees her sitting so peacefully in the powdery white snow, chin resting against her knees, face relaxed into an effortless smile. She sighs out contentedly and his heart fills and Eret decides that this is not so bad, either._

_And yet Eret can not shake the ominous feeling that disaster is fast approaching._

_The next time Eret goes to turn in his bounty of monsters, he thinks back to this moment.  
Because when he arrives at the drop point, it is not the usual group of men who greet him. A lone figure stands in the shadows of the trees instead, but even from this far away, Eret knows exactly who it is.  
Drago Bludvist; eyes dark with the confidence of overwhelming, never-ending power and anger and hate._

_"I hear you have been holding out on me, dragon trapper." _

* * *

"Ruffnut! Here, I have a present for you, my love." Fishlegs simpers.  
The twin narrows her eyes in distaste, but unable to resist the temptation, grabs for the box and rips away the plain packaging right that moment.  
A shriek echoes out across the whole of Berk.

"Ruffnut..." Althea mumbles from a hilltop on the other side of the island. "...Which means..."  
She turns an unamused eye on Tuffnut who is cackling to himself, rolling around on the grass helter-skelter, much to the chagrin of Althea's sheep, who have finally been brought out to graze on the delicious, sweet grass of the far pastures.  
"What did you do now?" Althea sighs.  
She has to wait a whole minute before he can speak.  
"Nothing." He grins wickedly. "Just helping a friend in need. Like the paragon of kindness and goodness that I am. Speaking of which," Tuffnut jumps to his feet. "Gotta go help that other friend now."  
"What other friend?" she shouts after him.  
"Snotlo- I mean, nobody!"  
"Wait! You promised to help-...Oh forget it."

Althea plops herself back down and from a good distance away, her dragon bounds over and joins her.  
"Bloodbiter, you're supposed to be terrifying. A terrifying Nightfury." she says, as Bloodbiter rolls around in the grass happily. "Hence the name?...You know, unholy plague of the night, blood and death. All that nonsense."  
Bloodbiter stops mid-wriggle and tilts her head at her.  
And Althea starts to laugh.  
Then, abruptly stops.

She wonders back to the full hearty laughter of Valka and Gobber and despite herself, she feels hope swelling in her chest.

"I guess it doesn't help to try and frighten _**everyone**_ away, though, does it?..." she murmurs.  
And suddenly, Bloodbiter pounces on her and drags her tongue across her face once, twice, three times.  
"Eugh! No, I take it back!" Althea giggles, struggling under the weight of the dragon's front legs. "Terror! I take terror any day."  
The Nightfury lets out a testy warble.  
"Oh, come on, you can do better than that, Bloodbiter. Give me a real roar! You know, like-"  
'What are you doing?"  
"Ahh!"

Her heart nearly jumps out her throat.

"...Bloodbiter, off." Althea whispers hurriedly.  
But she's sure her cheeks are already tinged pink as she rises to her feet, wiping dragon saliva from her chin.  
"I was...uh..." she stammers.  
Eret waits.  
"...Nothing. What are you doing up here?"

This time, it is his turn to look uncomfortable.  
"Hiccup said I should apologize..." he begins. Then, more quickly. "I told him you weren't interested in hearing me out, but...but he insisted and I agreed, that's all." A short pause. "...There's grass in your hair." (Even that seems precious to him now.)  
"What? Yes. I mean, right..." Still flustered by his sudden appearance, Althea takes a lock of hair and starts combing through it with her fingers as she says, "You agreed, but that doesn't mean you actually had to try, you know."  
And the frown on his face tells Althea that that particular thought hadn't occured to him at all.  
"You're certainly honest, for a dishonest man." she laughs.

Those words, infected with that once familiar teasing tone, escapes her lips before she can stop them and mentally, Althea kicks herself for being too wrapped up in her discomposure to _**think**_.  
She risks a glance at his face.  
Eret is quite obviously flummoxed at first, but then, there. She sees it again. That infuriating hope.  
Althea lets that guide her back to her old self again.  
"You know I won't forgive you, dragon trapper, so no apologies. But...there is something you can help me with."

And so Eret finds himself following after a ragtag parade consisting of Althea and ten sheep and a dragon.  
And Skullcrusher joins them too, once they're closer to the village.

Now, Eret has come to expect the cold shoulder that Althea gives him as they walk, but he does not expect the gentle nudging and chiding here and there that Althea uses with her charges.  
"Oh, come on, Mili. Eat any more and you'll be sick." she says one time. "Bloodbiter, leave Skullcrusher's horn alone." she says another.  
But even that stops completely as they cross on to the very first pathway.

There, Althea sends the dragons (the sheep, as well, but _**especially**_ the dragons) away. And Eret doesn't know why since they're all headed to the same place, but he doesn't argue.

* * *

Nobody looks particularly pleased to see him, as usual. They don't look especially _**dis**_pleased either, but he hopes that's enough to keep Althea from grasping just how unwelcome he actually is here.  
Because he wants her to know that he's changed; that if it were him, today, faced with the same decision, he wouldn't make that unthinkable mistake.

A few convivial nods. One actual smile.  
They make it just past Mulch's home before it happens.

"Confounding."  
"Baffling!"  
"Honestly, I still don't understand it at all..."

Eret's heart sinks. And he waits for Althea to say something to him at last but, still, nothing. And just as he is breathing his sigh of relief, Eret hears something else that piques his interest.

"It's a mystery she was ever chosen."  
"Her parents would be ashamed."  
"Remember what she said to us her very self?"  
"Changed her tune mighty quick when all of a sudden she had a Nightfury."

And he comes to the startling conclusion that they are not, in fact, talking about him this time. They are talking about...Althea. But if she knows this, she shows no signs of it as she continues walking through town, face unreadable, head held high.  
Thank the gods for that, at least.

But then, he sees her fist, clenched and shaking. And he knows he can do nothing to help **_that_**.  
She wouldn't let him, even if he dared.

And so, dragon rider and dragon trapper walk through Berk together, somehow both misfits in their odd little village; somehow both marked by crimes of the people they used to be, and not of the people they are.

* * *

_So sorry the chapters have been getting shorter...Also, also, so sorry that this chapter is trash..._


	6. Of Secrets They Both Keep

_Aakjdfksj.  
...School is rough, guys. Yikes.  
Sad high fives to all of you out there who are struggling already, just like me._

_Thank you all so much for reading, favorite-ing(?), following, and/or reviewing! I know I say this all the time, but I really, really do appreciate it. _  
_Hope you enjoy!_

_Honestly, I have no excuses for this chapter...It's trash and I know it, but here it is anyway..._

* * *

They are safe now, from the peoples' critical eyes and scathing words, but the questions do not leave her.  
Has he heard? Does he know? Is he glad to learn that she, too, is an outsider despite all the wrong she hasn't done?  
Against her will, Althea's eyes flicker in his direction.  
And what she sees, she desperately regrets. Because it is something she cannot hate him for, not truly:  
Understanding.  
Understanding and deep anger, all for_** her**_ sake.  
She looks away.

When they cross the threshold and finally enter her home, Bloodbiter and Skullcrusher are waiting; Rumblehorn grumbling and shifting in front of the fireplace as Nightfury pounces on his twitching tail.

There is a gentle laugh.  
"Careful of the spikes there, dragon."  
'Dragon' because he knows Althea will not take too kindly to him using its' name either.  
Bloodbiter blinks her large eyes then, and Althea almost hopes the dragon will see him and maul him, just so she can be rid of this ridiculous doubt.  
But that traitor, she springs over and lets the man scratch at the scales near her neck until she wriggles around on the floor with a happy trill.

And Althea is left standing there, trying to understand what's changed.

* * *

"Just what exactly is it you're asking me to do with all of this?"  
Althea tilts her head to the side, thinks hard, stares down at the barrel full of odd gears and metal pulleys and rope, among other things, that sits between them as they stand in her rather small living room.  
"I'm not...entirely sure." she says at last, with a perplexed shrug of her shoulders. "Gobber handed it off to me when I saw him this morning. Said it was time someone fixed up this part of the village. I would do it myself, but like, I said, I don't have a clue what it is."  
"You got this from Gobber?" Eret frowns.  
She nods.  
"And he didn't think to explain?"  
"Tuffnut was supposed to help me with this garbage." Althea sighs. "But he's suddenly very busy, apparently."  
Judging by the scream he'd heard ringing throughout Berk earlier that day, Eret understands that to mean Tuffnut is selling false facts about Ruffnut to Fishlegs and Snotlout, yet again. He scoffs at Tuffnut's gall at first.  
But then he realizes that, thanks to just that, here he is: in her home, at her side, and because she's _**asked**_ him here this time.

So, after an apprehensive rub of his chin, dragon trapper begins rummaging through the pile of odds-and-ends, trying to piece together some kind of meaning from the rubbish. When he gets halfway through, and things are scattered all over the floor around him, Eret finds a bucket and he starts to laugh because it should have been so obvious.

"It's a fire prevention measure." he announces. "Every house is rigged up with something like this. You understand why, i'm sure."  
She does.  
"One of Hiccup's ideas?" Althea asks.  
Eret sticks his head deeper into the barrel to empty it of its contents completely and Althea backs out, perches herself on the worn, wooden dining table across the room, a safe distance away. Old habits die hard, she supposes.  
"That would be my guess." Eret answers. "They were already around when I got here, so I couldn't tell you for sure."  
They're both trying their hardest to be indifferent, to be amiable, at least, but somehow, it feels wrong- like when a dragon's wound heals over but the scales never settle quite right or grow in just the same way, and so, dragon rider breaks the conversation off with a noncommittal "Mm." and resigns herself to silence.

But then,  
"Ow!"  
Althea jumps.  
"What? What is it? Are you okay?"  
"Nail." Eret hisses, sucking at his finger. He tosses the offending piece of metal to the ground distastefully and Althea grabs his hand to inspect the damage out of some odd instinct.  
He blinks at her.  
She blinks at him.  
Bloodbiter watches eagerly, tongue lolling out of her mouth, and even Skullcrusher peeks one eye open from his place dozing in front of the fireplace.  
Another second passes.  
And then time rushes back into motion.

"I'll get some medicine."  
His hand is shoved away suddenly and Althea disappears into the next room, mumbling something under her breath furiously as she goes.  
Eret stares after her.  
"Your rider certainly is a baffling one, isn't she?" he says to Bloodbiter then; quietly, so Althea won't hear.  
The Nightfury gurbles out what sounds like a laugh and Eret finds himself smiling. This time is so much like that other one.  
But there is no uneasy sense of bad things to come in the pit of his stomach now.  
Somehow, there is only good.

"Here."  
Something goes flying through the air and catches him unprepared. It hits Eret square in the left eye and then it just nearly drops to the floor, but Eret lurches forward and his right hand closes around the thing.  
When he looks, he realizes it is that small pot of putrid gel.  
"I-I just remembered there's somewhere that I need to be." Althea stuffs something into a pack hurriedly as she rambles, "When you're finished, you can just let yourself out. I probably won't be back for awhile. Do let Gobber know that everything's settled when it is, will you?"  
She slings the bag over her shoulder and then makes for the door, even before Eret can fully comprehend what's happening, and she almost slips away completely. But then, Althea halts. Slowly, she turns her head and glances over her shoulder at him, perhaps to say something else, and he waits patiently. But, in the end, dragon rider just lets out a low whistle and "Bloodbiter!", before disappearing out the door.

Had it been anyone else, they would have taken offense at this and left well-enough alone. But Eret is familiar with Althea's tendency to run; to run and come back again only when the solitude has grown too lonesome, so he stays and picks up his work again with Skullcrusher, at least, to keep him company.  
"Well, now's as good a time as any for another story, i'd say. Skullcrusher?"  
The dragon gives a grunt of assent and Eret chuckles.  
"Alright. Let's have a think..." He takes a rope and begins winding it around a metal loop. "Have I ever told you the one about about a dragon rider...and a dragon trapper?"  
He has.  
In fact, it has not even been a whole two days since Skullcrusher has heard the story last, but he lets Eret tell it again anyway. Because this time, it seems to make the human happy.

* * *

_"You, useless to me as you were, survived where other children did not- because of one reason."  
Drago Bludvists's staff thumps out a damning, heavy rhythm as he circles Eret slowly; controlled and precise, but thrumming with hatred underneath.  
Dragon trapper wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers and swallows.  
__"Your **father**_."_ Drago rasps.  
__  
Quick as lightning, the staff lifts off the ground, lashes out, and strikes Eret hard across the face and t__he force of the blow sends him knocking to the ground.  
He can taste blood in his mouth._

_But even there on the floor, with his dignity in pieces, he tries to appease the dark, towering figure that hovers over him, sneering in disgust. _  
_"He swore to you i'd be worth it! And I am."  
__Drago laughs, but it rings out hollow and crass, and only serves to make the man all-the-more frightening._  
_"You let a Nightfury slip through your fingers! You have proven yourself nothing, and your father's word, less than nothing, and now," he thunders "both of you will pay the price!"  
A flash of silver.  
Daggar in hand, nearing closer and closer.  
And Eret's heart pounds and his mind races and-  
_"_One more day. Give me just one more day and you'll have your Nightfury! The rider, too!"  
__Eret does not know what posses him to say it. Desperation? Fear?  
__Cowardice.  
__But Drago's steps do not falter.  
He comes ever closer until he is looming over Eret's pathetic form and the dragon trapper is certain it is all over._

_A slash of the blade._  
_A sharp, stinging, lingering pain._

_...But Eret is not dead. Not yet._  
_A long line of red runs down the side of his face now, but that, too, will not kill him._

_It is a last warning then, and not an execution.  
Even so, Eret is not relieved._

_"You **will **bring them to me."_

* * *

"Bloodbiter, how could you?" Althea sulks. "You're supposed to be on _**my **_side."

The dragon gurbles something, but Althea cannot understand so she just drops forward and smooshes her cheek against the dragon's back with a frustrated groan. For awhile, she hangs limply from the creature in silence as they continue to fly.

The sky, this high up, is beautiful. The clouds glow in a swirl of pink and purple and gold in the sunlight as far as the eye can see and once, this sight alone had been enough to lift Althea's spirits whenever she felt troubled. But today, she only reaches out a weak hand, lets the vapor drift through her fingers, and thinks of how she keeps slipping, despite everything she knows.

"Where do you suppose we should go this time, Bloodbiter?" she murmurs.  
The Nightfury lets out a whine.  
"Oh, come on now. You're not seriously wounded by what I said, are you? You're the one who turned on me, you traitor!"  
The sleek black dragon opens her jaws and spits out a small breath of hot smoke which the wind propels right into Althea's face.  
"Ack! Bloodbiter!"  
She coughs and waves her arms about and the dragon warbles a laugh.  
"You're kind of a prig, you know that?" Althea says crisply.  
But a smile starts to play at the corners of her lips.

Suddenly, a dark shadow passes underneath them and both dragon and rider grow still and tense. Until, "Althea? Althea! Where is she?"  
It is Hiccup and Astrid.  
"Oh no..." Althea groans. "She's gonna kill me for trying to leave. Bloodbiter, try to lose them in those-"  
"There she is! Get her, Stormfly!"

* * *

"You are unbelievable! I thought we just talked about this."  
Althea and Bloodbiter exchange guilty looks as Astrid begins her tirade.  
They are quite back on solid ground now, though Althea isn't exactly sure where. She's sure Hiccup knows, but he, at the moment, is also staring at her rather pointedly so she decides not to ask.  
"I mean, I know you hate him, but, seriously? Leaving Berk? How long were you planning to be gone this time, and without telling anyone, _**a**__**gain!**_" Astrid fumes.  
"Hey, who said I was leaving because of him?"  
"Weren't you?" Hiccup counters.  
"Uh..." comes the answer and Astrid's eyes narrow and she shakes her head in disapproval.  
She continues to rampage for another good hour.

"Do you really think you can go your entire life hating the guy?" Hiccup says, later when Astrid has finally grown calm. "Cause, I mean, that...that's a long time."  
"...It's not that i've never...wanted to forgive him..." Althea grudgingly confesses. "I just can't. I owe it to Bloodbiter not to forget. I owe it to every other dragon out there, too."  
"Come on, was what he did to you really that bad?" Hiccup asks doubtfully.  
And out of the corner of her eyes, Althea sees Astrid struggling against the urge to tell him everything.  
"It was." Althea replies.  
"Okay, so then, let's say you're right about that. But he's, he's changed, Althea. I'm telling you. He's an entirely different guy now. Doesn't that count for anything?" Hiccup says. He picks up a stray twig and starts scratching into the sand absently, and Toothless runs off in search of a branch so he can do the same. Bloodbiter blinks at the other Nightfury curiously.

"Not really." Althea answers with a dry laugh.  
"Give it up, Hiccup." Astrid says. "You're not gonna change her mind."  
And the chief of Berk suddenly starts to grin at the words.  
"Are you sure about that, Astrid? Because i'm pretty sure i've done it before."  
"Oh, really?" she says, and her tone is rife with sarcasm. "And when was that?"  
Hiccup nods towards the far end of the clearing.  
"...When I met Bloodbiter." Althea murmurs.  
"Exactly." Hiccup says.

For awhile, all three of them watch quietly as the dragon plods over beside Toothless and peers down at his abstract drawing.  
"I think she actually likes it." Astrid giggles after a moment.  
"You hear that, bud? You have a fan." Hiccups says.  
The Nightfury chirps happily and then, he runs off to find another branch, which he drops at Bloodbiter's feet this time.  
The dragon tilts her head at the other, not quite understanding, and so Toothless gives it another nudge and suddenly, there are two dragons looping and dancing and spiraling across the sand as they scrawl out their works of art.

Althea laughs at the sight.  
But more and more of her confidence is falling away because it's true. She has been wrong before.  
She can't afford to be wrong _**now**_ but the past has rattled so much of her insides loose that she can never be quite certain of anything when it comes to anything truly important.

She wonders then, just how much of herself has actually escaped from that dark cell in the depths of Drago's fortress. And then she wonders just how much of herself is still trapped there, rotting away in the past.  
And as she watches her dragon, lapping happily at both Hiccup and Astrid who pat her head and scratch her scales and look at Bloodbiter so effortlessly, without having to feel any of the guilt that Althea always does, she makes herself a promise.

"...I wont run again."  
Her words are so quiet, nobody hears them.

* * *

"And that's when I saw her there. And do you know, I just couldn't leave it alone." Eret says. "So what I did was..."

When Althea finally returns, it is well-past midnight, and so she expects her humble little home to be empty.  
But she walks through the doorway, quite wearily, and Eret is still there, balancing on a chair as he secures a pulley to the beam that runs across her living room wall.  
The fireplace is lit, Skullcrusher is slumbering deeply, and yet dragon trapper talks, in a deep, gentle voice, to nobody in particular as he works.

"I went to her just as i'd planned-"

"Are you talking to your dragon?"  
Eret nearly topples from his place when he hears her.  
"What? 'Am I'...? Yes." he admits uncertainly.  
"...About us?" Althea asks. She tries to feign disinterest as she drops her sack by the door.  
"...Yes." Eret repeats.

Althea glances over the state of her living room then, not entirely sure how to reply to that.  
The popping and hissing of the fire is the only sound in the entire room for minutes.  
And then, Althea trudges to him, a spare mallet and a few iron nails in hand, and asks, "...This goes here?"  
Eret nods and he watches in surprise as she begins, as quietly as she can manage so that Skullcrusher doesn't wake, to **_help_** him.  
He turns back to his task.  
And they both try to work in the tentative silence.

"...You can keep telling the story...If you want to."  
The soft murmur startles him, and Eret's hands stop moving altogether as he marvels at just how many times a day she can leave him in awe.  
"...I went to her, just as i'd planned...And I told her i'd leave dragon trapping behind and go with her. She asked me, then, if I really meant it and I...I could see that she wasn't all the way convinced, but..."  
The words start out slow and odd on his lips, but as Eret fights through them anyway, they start to come more freely and more desperately until he realizes just how badly he's wanted her to hear him speak.  
And she does. She hears it all; the remorse when he tells of his betrayal, the fear when he describes Drago's wrath, the lingering tenderness in his voice when he makes _**any**_ mention at all, of her.  
And after too short awhile, it suddenly becomes too much.

"Stop..." she whispers.  
He doesn't want to, but he does.  
"...I...can take care of the rest. It's already late."  
And, understanding that to be his dismissal, Eret nods and regretfully readies to leave.  
They come to the doorway.

"Thank you for your help today." Althea says. "And...goodnight, dragon trapper."  
"Good night, dragon rider." he answers.  
The door shuts.

"...Let's go home, Skullcrusher." says Eret gently.  
And the whole way home, he tries to make himself believe it:  
He had come _**that**_ close to telling her; telling her the one part of the story she needed to know above all else.  
This had been his best chance.  
And he had missed it.

* * *

_I'm so sorry everyone...Lawd, have mercy...  
_


	7. Of Turning Points And Rebellious Dragons

Man, writing is hard...Bumped the rating up to a T, by the way. Just to be safe. We're starting to get into the nitty gritty parts.

I hope you all enjoy and thank you tons for taking the time to read! Also, hello to my new readers! I appreciate each and every favorite/follow/review you guys send my way.  
(Another also, second shout out to I Have Gone Away for being awesome! Seriously. I am just skdfbadfgsed by your amazingly kind words every single time, so thank you so much!)

* * *

_It's just another casual tryst; another flighty run-in with the same man whose face she's seen a thousand times before and whose dark eyes and strong hands aren't the slightest bit disarming in the very least.  
That's what she tells herself, anyway, to calm the nerves._

_"Hands, stop shaking." Althea murmurs sternly.  
But then, as she looks down at her frozen little fingers, the giddiness bubbles over and she starts to smile._

_Because at long last, their resolve has crumbled to dust, and after tonight...After tonight, she will never be truly lonely again.  
Instead, when she is driven to sadness, Althea will be able to seek **him** out because he is warm and true and good beneath the false bravado, and he will chase the hurt away. He always has.  
And then, when it is **he** who festers in doubt instead, she will help him be rid of that too, in any way she can.  
No more fleeting glances that are carefully timed to miss each other; that are made to seem empty and distant and that always end too soon.  
No more imagining what he'll say or think about this matter or that. (They'll talk long into the night, every night.)  
No more wondering how his touch has changed, what it's become, since the last time she's dared to actually let herself feel it.  
_

_What will she do first, she wonders.  
Althea suddenly remembers when things had first changed between them; when something in the air had shifted to become what it would remain until this very night.  
And as she waits there in the dark, Althea realizes that what she wants, as odd as it seems, is to try at another handshake. A good and solid proper one.  
(And then, she thinks, perhaps a kiss.)  
Althea squirms in happy anticipation as she pulls her fur hood closer to ward off the frigid night air. She's never felt like a bigger fool in all her life and she hates that, but right now, oh, she loves it too.__  
_

_Suddenly, there is movement from somewhere deep in the forest.  
"...Eret?"  
No response. But the heavy footsteps edge closer.  
And for just a moment, doubt begins to prick at her heart. Althea edges closer to where Bloodbiter is waiting._

_"It's okay. It's okay Bloodbiter." she whispers. "It...It has to be him."  
The dragon pulls into herself, glancing around uneasily and at that, Althea almost thinks to run. In fact, she almost does.  
But a toxic hope still lingers in the back of her mind; taints every bit of common sense she has, and so run she does not.  
_

_A dry, raspy laugh.  
"So you are the dragon rider." _  
_A stranger steps out of the forest, the likes of which Althea has never seen, and her eye is immediately drawn to the thick, heavy black cloak that drags behind him as he walks.  
It is made of dragon skin.  
__Which means that this man...  
Her blood ices over._

_He is Drago Bludvist; someone she has only heard of once before, in passing.  
Still, Althea had gleaned enough from Eret's expression then, to feel such terror at the sight of this man now- so confident in his abilities that he faces both Nightfury and dragon rider alone.  
_

_Bloodbiter growls as he advances. And that brings Althea back.  
She has to run._  
_"...One the count of three. Ready?" she whispers._

_One._  
_Althea draws a dagger and crouches low to the ground, making as if she's about to attack._  
_Drago brandishes his staff and stands ready._

_Two._  
_Althea gauges the most evasive path of flight._  
_She does not let her gaze linger for too long in the sky, for fear of giving her thoughts away. Her heartbeat drums in her ears._

_"Now!"_  
_Bloodbiter opens her mouth and spits an enormous blast of flames. Then another._  
_ And another. And another.  
And then, while the man's cloak is pulled across his face for protection, Althea scrambles onto Bloodbiter's back and the Nightfury pushes off into the air, and they are so very close to being safe.  
But then..._

_A brutal force swings out, crushes her lungs as it hits her, and Althea alone goes tumbling back across the ground.  
She gasps and chokes as an excruciating pain rips through her body. An odd wetness spread across the front of her tunic.  
She glances down at her fingertips.  
Blood.  
From a gash a nearly five inche__s long, running horizontally from just below her collar bone all the way to her shoulder._

_"Abandon your rider and she will die, dragon!" Drago Bludvist bellows to the sky, where the dark silhouette of the creature hovers uncertainly._

"_No...No, you have to go!" Althea screams. "Bloodbiter, go!"_  
_Something strikes her hard again.  
"I will not make it painless, Nightfury."  
"Bloodbiter, listen to me!-"  
A hard jab in the stomach, a shattering blow to her shin, and then the pointed tip of the staff comes crashing down onto the back of Althea's hand._  
_And now, she is only left weeping and bleeding and convulsing on the ground.  
__(She cannot muster the strength to call out to her dragon again.)  
_  
_Bloodbiter lets out a mournful cry and, because she is afraid for her rider, she **does** comes back. And the moment she draws near enough, Drago catches the inside of Bloodbiter's mouth with the same metal hook he'd used to tear into Althea's flesh and yanks the dragon to the ground with a cruel smile._

"_You belong to **me **now." he snarls._

_As Althea bleeds out onto the forest floor, she cannot help but see as Drago's heavy boot crushes Bloodbiter's muzzle into the dirt until the dragon, **her** dragon, her friend, her family, her everything, withers and submits.  
Althea shuts her eyes for the rest.  
Hot tears roll down her dirty cheeks and dampen the ground, and the shame, the guilt, the helplessness that she feels in that moment, it changes her forever.  
_

_Still, the last thing that crosses Althea's mind before her consciousness fades is Eret.  
Wherever he is, she hopes at least, that he is safe.  
_

_It does not even cross her mind that he has betrayed her. _

* * *

Althea turns restlessly in her sleep.  
She moans, kicks, tosses this way and that and then-  
She gasps and wakes with a start, a sheen of cold sweat glistening on her skin.

Just a dream.  
It was just a dream...

Even so, she grips her blanket tightly to her, until her knuckles are white and her hands are shaking, as she glances around uneasily in the suffocating dark of her bedroom.  
"Bloodbiter?" she calls out softly.  
Nothing.  
And then the panic settles in.  
"Bloodbiter?" she calls again. "Bloodbiter!"

A curious chirrup.  
Althea exhales and slumps forward in relief as the dragon pokes her head into the bedroom.  
"...Where did you go?" Althea murmurs.  
The Nightfury bounds over and only licks at her face in reply and Althea laughs.  
"Going to see Toothless again, huh?...Come on then. Back to sleep." she says.  
And so the dragon curls up in her corner of the room and, in just a few short minutes, is slumbering peacefully.  
Althea tries to feel reassured at the sight of it.  
But somehow, she spends the rest of the night wide awake and shivering in the blackness and trying to forget everything she had once seen and endured

* * *

"Good morning Mili!" Astrid sings, giving the sheep a pat on the head.  
The sheep just chews on her mouthful of grass placidly and then lowers her head for another.  
"Unbelievable. Mili, are you eating_** again**_?" a new voice says suddenly.  
Astrid turns to see Althea standing there, arms folded across her chest and staring down at the woolen thing in disbelief.

The sheep bleats pointedly;_ leave me alone_.  
And Astrid laughs at Althea's startled expression as the animal plods further down the hill away from her owner.  
"Do your pets _**ever **_listen to you?"  
"No." Althea sighs. "And they've gotten better at sassing me since i've been away, I think."  
Astrid grins in amusement. "Well, hey, at least you've got Bloodbiter, right?"  
The Nightfury perks up and offers up a toothless smile at which the blonde-haired viking giggles. She crouches down to give Bloodbiter's scales a scratch as the creature turns on her back in delight.  
"...She never listens to me either." Althea answers quietly. She gives a shake of her head then, to refocus her thoughts, and asks, "Anyway, what are you doing out here?"

"Oh, that's right."  
Astrid straightens again, much to Bloodbiter's dismay, and then she gives Althea a look that is so much like the one Mili had given them just moments before, that Althea struggles not to laugh.  
"I'm making sure," Astrid replies. "that you don't miss another training session. Thanks to your jetting off on your little adventure yesterday, by the time Hiccup and I got back, the entire training ground was going up in flames. Today, you're coming with us."  
Althea grimaces at that.  
She isn't particularly in the mood to see everyone just now.  
"Really? I have to?"  
"Yes, you do." says Astrid firmly.  
"I'll...I'll go next time." Althea lies. "Right now, I have these little gluttons to feed."  
Ili looks up at her, affronted at the insult.

But Astrid, apparently, knows her friend too well and she just shakes her head.  
"Nope, I don't want to hear it. You're gonna be there. Today. Right now. Now come on."  
And she pushes and nudges and bumps Althea toward the village until, finally, the second viking gives in with a frustrated huff.  
"Okay, alright! I'll go. Just...let go of me."  
Astrid smiles triumphantly.  
"Good. Don't take too long. We've gotta stay sharp if we're gonna win the next dragon race." she says.  
"First my sheep, then my dragon, then you..." Althea sighs. "I'm surrounded by tyrants..."  
"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Astrid laughs. Then, "I'm heading off first, but you'd better not skip out on us. You hear me, Althea?"  
"Yeah, yeah. I got it." comes the reply.

* * *

By the time the sheep have been put back into their pen and Althea has readied herself for a day of sparring and flying, a half hour as already passed and she knows she is late. Very late. Which is why what happens next is so vexing.

"Bloodbiter, we don't have time." Althea says. She grabs at Bloodbiter's leg and tugs backward.  
The creature doesn't even budge.  
"Astrid and the others are waiting. We have to go."  
Bloodbiter garbles in amusement and hops forward a few more paces in the opposite direction she is meant to go, dragging Althea with her.  
"No! Stop that! Bad girl!"  
The rider grits her teeth then and braces herself.  
"You. Are. Coming. Withhh. Meeeee." she groans as she pulls with all her might.  
Still nothing, and at long last, Althea huffs out and releases her hold on the creature crossly.  
"What's going on with you lately?" she asks.

But suddenly, the dragon quirks up at something eagerly in the distance. And before Althea can fathom what it is, the dragon is trouncing off, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.  
"Wait! Get back here! Where are you going?"  
The Nightfury does not even glance back, and for a moment, Althea just stares after her, shell-shocked at the situation.  
Then,  
"Big stupid lizard." she grouses.  
Althea chases after her.

* * *

"Come on, Skullcrusher. Let's get a move on, eh? What do you say?"  
Across town, dragon trapper is having an equally difficult time getting his charge to obey, which is surprising because Skullcrusher has never proven to be a particularly stubborn creature.  
And everything had been right as rain this morning, but then, as soon as Eret had stepped outside to get to the training grounds, Skullcrusher had parked the great bulk of his body down and refused to budge an inch.  
Eret peers down at the dragon.  
The dragon peers back, sharp pointed teeth forming an unsettling grin.

Then...  
"That's it! I've had it with these mutinous beasts! I'm getting rid of all of you and getting a nice pet fish instead!"  
Eret hears her first.  
Then, he sees her.  
And then she sees him.

Althea falls silent, eyes widening in surprise and suddenly, the dragon she'd been chasing bounds over to him happily and tilts her head underneath his hand.  
"Lose something?" Eret asks, cracking a small smile.  
Althea sighs.  
"...Only my sanity." she grumbles.  
After a moment's hesitation, she approaches and this time, Bloodbiter stays, allowing Althea to crouch and pet her head.  
Neither rider nor trapper miss the fact that they are now mere inches apart.  
"It's good to know i'm not alone in my trouble, at least." Eret says.  
Althea eyes him carefully. "What do you mean?"  
He nods towards the Rumblehorn sitting as still as a statue just a few feet away.  
"Skullcrusher's been like that for a good hour, now. Won't move a single muscle no matter what I..." but Eret trails off then, as something quite remarkable happens.

At that very instant, with both Althea and Eret watching, the dragon slowly pulls to his feet. And he heads off in the direction of the training grounds, walking as casually as if the entire fiasco had never even taken place.  
Bloodbiter perks up and chases after him, and for awhile, Eret and Althea stare, wearing identical bewildered, frazzled, flabbergasted expressions at the confounding little beasts.  
Suddenly, Althea laughs. (Eret just remembers how much he loves the sound.)  
"It's a maddening ordeal, isn't it? Taking care of a dragon."  
"That it is." he agrees.  
He looks at her.  
And when she looks back and sees the gentleness in his face, she starts to shift around uncomfortably.  
"We'd...better go after them."  
She rises to her feet. He does too.

They walk to the grounds together, sort of.  
She lingers ten steps behind him at all times and he, not wanting to demand more than she is ready to give, does not speak about it. In fact, neither of them speak at all the entire way.  
But once, just once, Althea's finds herself glancing over in Eret's direction, and she wonders if it really could be true: that he has changed. And if it is, whether or not that lone, simple fact is enough to excuse him for his cowardice, for her capture, for everything Drago Bludvist had made her do.

A pleasant trill sounds beside her.  
"Oh, hush, you." Althea grumbles. "You're still not forgiven, you know."  
She gives the dragon an affectionate pat anyway.

* * *

_"Do you know why you are here, dragon rider?" Drago laughs cruelly. He leans in closer to leer at her through the cell, but the girl that sits there is not Althea. Not anymore at least, for she does not spit in his eye or scream insults or fight back or even show that she is hearing a single word he says.  
No, Althea has been gone for weeks now._

_And this new gaunt, empty, dirty skeleton of a girl, she lowers her eyes to the ground and huddles into herself and says nothing.  
She trembles and she shakes and she cowers in the corner in her own blood and waste and refuse until finally, she begins to wail like a lost child.  
Because she **does**__ know, now.  
She had pieced it together back when her mind had still been strong and able. Back when her head had been clear and her body hadn't been branded and cut and broken, and she could still close her eyes and lie in the dark without seeing it, that **thing **lying right outside of her cell, staring at her with its' dead eyes; accusing her, hating her, blaming her for everything that's happened._

_"He led you straight to me, dragon rider. In exchange for his own life." Drago sneers. "Such is the way of the man you tried to love."  
_

* * *

Thank you again!


	8. Of Ends At Last With No Solutions

_You people are just all too amazing. Thank you so much for the reviews, the favorites, everything. Seriously.  
__Honestly, this story is just my humble attempt at exploring two characters and i'm always surprised when someone wants to give it a chance._  
_I'll do my absolute best not to disappoint! Even though...this chapter. I swear. Oh my lawd...  
__Enjoy!_

S_ide note: You may have noticed updates coming less and less frequently. I'm very sorry about that! But school, you know. Also, personal stuff...My life is sucha wreck, you guys..._

* * *

Bloodbiter has a new obsession.  
And while Althea finds it sweet at first, that she practices drawing in the dirt wherever and whenever Althea has something she rather needs to be doing, it is quickly becoming just a bit exasperating, too. Especially in times like these, when Althea is trying to fight but has a dragon constantly ramming its' head into her bottom, trying to call attention to the latest arrangement of scribble scrabbles.

"Alright, alright. Let's see what you have." Althea sighs, once she can't stand it another second.  
And at long last, the dragon stops nudging at her bum and perks up in delight. Ruffnut makes a face when she sees her opponent is about to call it quits.  
"Oh, come on! This is the third time already!" she groans dramatically.  
Althea flashes her an apologetic smile as she lowers her axe.  
"Sorry. Unless I go have a look, she'll keep at it forever. And I think my butt has suffered quite enough for one day, thank you very much."  
The twin rolls her eyes, but doesn't argue further.  
"What's _**with**_ your dragon lately anyway?" she asks instead.  
But Althea can only shrug.

The two follow Bloodbiter, who maneuvers around and through the others, over to the opposite end of the training grounds eagerly and finally, Althea says, "She's been like this ever since Toothless, I think..."  
"Uh. Yeah. But Hiccup actually _**knows**_ what Toothless is trying to draw. Do you?" Ruffnut asks. She glances at Althea dubiously.  
"Erm..." comes the response.  
And the twin throws up her arms in frustration.  
"Urgh! Whatever! Just come and find me when you're done. Again."  
And with a shake of her head, she heads off to find a temporary partner to spar with.  
"Thanks, Ruffnut!" Althea calls after her.  
But Ruffnut is too busy trying to avoid Fishleg and Snotlout, who are both vying for her attention, to reply with anything other than a wave of her hand.

With a sigh, Althea turns back to her dragon.  
"So, what is it this time then?"  
Bloodbiter's large eyes flicker over to the drawing eagerly. She lets her tongue hang out and then quickly glances back, prompting Althea to take a look herself.  
"Wow...That's..um...pretty...unique." the dragon rider says, nodding in a manner that she hopes seems approving.  
But the lines and squiggles are just as unreadable as ever.  
Still, Bloodbiter prances around and rolls in the dirt proudly, and Althea laughs as she bends to rub just underneath the creature's chin.  
"They're nice drawings, Bloodbiter." she says. Then, more seriously, "But there's a time and place for these things, okay? So unless you're trying to tell-"  
Suddenly, the dragon straightens, quirks her head, and stares off into the distance, ignoring Althea completely. And the dragon rider correctly suspects that it is Eret who has caught her dragon's attention.

"What is it with you?" she grumbles crossly. "A few days ago, you hated him. You know who he is, so what are you doing?"  
But Bloodbiter just thrashes her trail at Althea in reply.  
"Pbbfft!" Althea splutters. She spits out a mouthful of soil as she wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. "Bloodbiter!"  
Another twitch and a threatening glance.  
"You wouldn't..."  
A blink of very large eyes.  
"Okay, alright! What? You want me to look at him? I'm looking."  
And Bloodbiter seems satisfied with that.  
Althea squirms to get comfortable and then hunkers down to follow the orders of her stubborn dragon.

But no matter how long Althea studies him, all she sees is Eret, Son of Eret.  
A man who has only ever served to bring her to ruin, and who she refuses to believe is changed now, no matter the fact that he has all of Berk, including Bloodbiter, fooled.  
The grip on his sword; the curl of his fingers, the bend of his wrist. It's still just the same.  
And not only that.  
The way he leads with his right foot before an attack, the way he frowns in concentration as he sizes up an enemy, the way he laughs triumphantly when he just barely evades a hit.  
He's exactly the same as she remembers.  
So, how could he be any different?...

Just then, Eret feels a pair of eyes watching, and he turns his head and sees her looking at him. Bloodbiter, too.  
Unfortunately, Eret is also in the middle of a scuffle with Astrid, and in that one moment, Astrid's axe comes swinging down and it knocks Eret's shield right into his face.  
"Ow!"  
He immediately groans, one hand at his eye, and he drops the shield along with his weapon and hunches over in pain.  
"Eret!" Astrid exclaims, alarmed. She runs over to his side, but when she sees that he is alright, she yells instead, "What were you thinking?! Pay attention!"  
Althea can't help but snort at that.  
But the snort turns into a true laugh when, suddenly, Skullcrusher comes over and sits himself on top of Eret's back affectionately, effectively crushing the man and shocking Astrid's anger into concern.  
"Skullcrusher, get off. You'll hurt him!" she says.  
The dragon innocently blinks off into the distance.  
And as amusing as this spectacle is, Althea supposes she had better step in before any real damage is done.

"Hiccup!"  
The village chief stops mid-swing, the dragon blade in his hand just inches from singeing Tuffnut's eyebrows off, and both vikings stare blankly at her.  
"...I think those three could use some of your dragon expertise." she says.  
And so Hiccup glances over in the general direction in which Althea nods her head and immediately, his eyes widen and he starts off with a huff of determination. A few villagers who have dropped by to watch the training, laugh. So do Althea's friends.  
"Well, that's not good...Skullcrusher, off. No. Come on, be a good boy and..."

It takes a full ten minutes before Hiccup is able to coerce the creature to move, but when he does, Eret needs help standing on his feet again for awhile.  
Still, when he is able, he dusts himself off, wipes at his brow, and then...he bends down and gives Skullcrusher a gentle pat on the head and a kind laugh. And everyone around him smiles because they understand the inexplicable feelings hidden behind that simple little gesture.

Althea understands it, too.  
And she only realizes then, that it was wrong to let herself see this.

Because, despite all she had seen of the pair up until this very moment, Althea had never thought it _**real**_; that dragon trapper could ever truly become dragon rider.  
He had been afraid, once, of even having Bloodbiter nearby because he knew what he was and he couldn't let himself feel any shame in it.  
But now...

"Come on, Bloodbiter. Time for some flying."

* * *

Come supper time, Althea settles at the back table of the great hall alone, and the others are used to this, so they let her be.  
And as the rest of the room echoes with laughter and good stories, Althea mercilessly tears into a leg of roast chicken, trying to shake off the unforgivable thoughts.  
Vicious chewing.  
She shouldn't. She couldn't.  
She won't.

(Forgive him...)  
She takes another savage bite and then starts inhaling the bread next.

Suddenly, a soft trill sounds beside her and Althea stops demolishing her food long enough to spare a glance.  
"...Go ahead." she says softly to Bloodbiter, who immediately bounds off in Toothless's direction. The two Nightfuries come together and Althea watches them fondly as they play, her supper suddenly forgotten in her hands.  
Her dragon is not alone. She is...happy, maybe.  
And that is something at least.

Thoughts, however, for another time, as Mr. Ack and a few of the other villagers appear and sit themselves down at the far end of Althea's table.  
Althea tenses.  
The group nods at her.  
She nods back impassively, then goes on eating, trying to pretend she can't hear a word. Their gossip is no business of hers, anyway...

"Daft, i'd say."  
"Says he's a good sort, but how can you tell?"  
"Dragon trapper."

And Althea realizes with some astonishment that they are talking about Eret.  
She relaxes. Perhaps their idle gossip can bring her back to common sense.  
She continues to munch on a crust as listens in, but the more she hears, the worse she feels and, for the life of her, she doesn't understand why. Not until-

"And poor Skullcrusher. Old Stoic's dragon, passed into the hands of Drago Bludvist's lackey."  
"...doesn't deserve him."  
"His fault that..."  
"...changed his mind mighty quick..."

_Plink!  
_The half-eaten slice of bread drops from her hand and onto her plate at the surprise she feels, at first. But then, that quickly turns to white, hot anger. Only, this time it is anger born **_for_** him rather than because of him.

She's heard these words before. And Althea, she knows what it feels like to have them said of herself. And if they had doubted anything but that, if they had doubted anything but a dragon's ability to follow who they deemed worthy, she could have left well enough alone.  
But this...

She clenches her hand into a fist, steadies herself, and glances over to where Eret is sitting with Astrid.  
Her first mistake.  
Because the next thing Althea knows, Astrid is saying something to the man and he is looking hopelessly happy and naive, completely unaware of what poison is being spoken about him right now.  
The sound of his laugh, it squeezes all the air out of her lungs, makes it hard to breathe. And Althea doesn't look away.  
Her second mistake.  
Because then, Astrid is nodding over towards her, and Eret hesitates but then he starts to get up, and...  
And, oh no, Althea realizes in horror. He is about to come _**here**_.  
Willingly. Unknowingly.  
Into a trap of pointed glances and whispered insults, and she cannot let that stand.

Althea rises to her feet.  
And with no choice, just this once, she goes to _**him.**_

And the closer she gets, the more she comes to realize that no matter how much the idea of forgiving him disgusts her, she has already gone and done it.

They reach each other at the exit.  
"Follow me." she says.  
He does.

* * *

_She doesn't come back.  
She's escaped from Drago, somehow- up and disappeared, but she doesn't come back._

_Eret makes certain of that.  
He covers his tracks well this time and, with nothing but the certainty that it was one of his men who betrayed him, he tries to start his life again.  
_

_Tougher, stronger. More bravado, more arrogance.  
He shows only the sides of himself that she'd have likely hated.  
And every time, when thoughts of her well up and threaten to show his weakness, he forces them down and lashes out harder._

_Apathy, indifference. More nets, more dragons._

_He lives the same dreaded pattern for a month._  
_And everything is fine._  
_Just fine._  
_So he lives that routine again.  
And again.  
And again.  
Until it has become so familiar to him that it is unthinkable for him to do anything else.  
_

_(But at night, he watches the heavens, hoping that, some day, a Nightfury will be there. A Nightfury with a rider who is mischievous and lonely and a little bit guarded, with clear eyes and a defiant smile.)_

_He knows that her return would only mean him trouble; certain death, well-deserved.  
__Still, he hopes that one day, she **will** find him._

_But a year passes. And no one ever comes.  
__And eventually, the time comes when Eret, Son of Eret, sits by the campfire with his men at night, and he picks up his whittling, and he forgets all about searching the skies._

* * *

"Is everything alright?..."  
He is uncertain, afraid.  
Even in the darkness, she can hear it in his voice and see it in his earnest eyes.  
Especially because they are here, right where she had punched him that very first night.

"Yes. I just wanted to say...That is...I never..." Althea takes a breath. "I never had the chance to gloat about winning the dragon race...Did I, dragon rider?"  
Eret frowns at first.  
"What did you just say?..."  
But Althea's eyes just flicker this way and that uncertainly.  
So he thinks a little harder.

And that is when he realizes.  
'Dragon rider.'  
She'd called him dragon rider.  
Eret's eyes widen in bewilderment and he blinks at her, once, just to make sure.  
Stillness.  
Then, Althea nods.

And suddenly, Eret is smiling one of the first true smile she's seen since she'd returned, and he feels as if he's about to burst.  
Immediately, he reaches out and takes her hand, and Althea lets out a small, startled gasp.  
But his fingers are rough and calloused and strong and the feel of them is still exactly the same, just as she'd thought, so eventually, her hand closes around his, too, aching for that familiarity.

"...You didn't." Eret murmurs, voice straining under the burden of containing his happiness. His tone thrums with warmth. "Have the chance to gloat, that is."  
Althea feels her cheeks flush at her excuse, but Eret gives her hand a gentle squeeze and oh, the way he looks at her; this is the first time she's realized it.  
"Yes, well..." she says with a nervous titter. "I got the black sheep, you know."  
He nods, as if it is the most interesting fact in the world. As if he had not, in fact, been there when it had happened.  
"...It was a close match, I hear." he says, a smile always tugging at the corner of his lips.

She frowns.  
"Not so close as you might think."

And he laughs.  
"Perhaps not."

She chances an open, unhidden glance at his face because she can.  
"Still, the competition-..."

"-was decent?

"-was...something." A pause. "Was...worthy."

"Worthy..." he echoes.

Silence.

Her hand presses against the warmth of his cheek. He revels in her touch.  
"...Was good."

And he turns his head to catch the edge of her fingers with his lips and it is only then that Althea finally realizes, to the full extent, what Eret thinks her forgiveness means.  
She pulls her hand away.

"Eret..." she begins.

"...This won't ever be what it could have been." he finishes for her. Softly, though, because even though he knew it was coming, he'd been hoping otherwise. "...I know...I know, Althea."

* * *

_He forgets until this day._

_"Is that what I think it is...?"  
He doesn't dare to wish.  
But then, he sees it again.  
And it is.  
A Nightfury._

_It is a Nightfury._

_And all of the sudden, all that time Eret has spent trying to live as someone different, wastes away to nothing and he stands there afraid and breathless all at once.  
"Ready the traps, lads!"  
He deals out commands to his men with a new purpose, and there is life in his eyes and air in his lungs again, and he can't help but be just the same naive young man he was a year ago.  
Still, if his men suspect something is changed, they say nothing.  
And Eret is glad for that.  
Because..._

_Another Nightfury, but it is not hers.  
Other riders, but she is not with them.  
And it hits him only then, that he has lost her for good.  
_

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!  
And again, i'm so sorry about this chapter...


	9. Of Empty Song And Bad Company

_I can only apologize for the this hot mess of a chapter...Really. I honestly just...Um...Sorry, ya'll...If it's really, just like...EW. Then let me know (kindly please) and i'll do my best to re-work it!_

_But I figured now would be a good time to answer a few questions. First of all, yes I have been considering a sequel! It would be a little different, more focused on the present than on flashbacks...This story alone was supposed to span over 30 chapters with a re-appearance from a certain baddie, but I shifted the focus. Like, a lot. I'm still not sure whether or not I regret making that decision, to be honest...But if you have any interest in reading more, let me know!_  
_Anyway, enjoy everybody! And thanks for reading, as always!  
(Also, good luck with school or work or whatever it is that you may be struggling with everyone. It's tough, but you can do it!)_

* * *

The next morning, someone shakes Eret from his sleep only well-past noon.  
He is not usually this late a sleeper, but last night had left him somehow both weak with relief and heavy with empty disappointment all at the same time and so, after Althea had left him standing there alone in the cold beneath the stars, Eret had trudged home, fallen into bed, and slumbered feverishly for hours and hours.

He blinks his sleep-swollen eyes open now and the first thing he sees is Snotlout's pale, stubbled face leering over him. Then he sees Astrid's, and Ruffnut and Tuffnut's, and then Hiccup's and even Fishlegs' over in the corner.  
The rotund viking waves cheerfully.

And Eret lets out a shout of surprise once his mind finally registers what is happening.  
"What are you all doing here?" he demands.  
He scrambles to sit up and pull his blanket over his bare torso as Ruffnut blows a kiss at him with a meaningful smile. But the rest of the vikings don't smile or laugh or joke.  
Instead, Snotlout pushes past the others, arm crossed over his bulky chest.  
"So, look man, we gotta talk." he says.

Half an hour later, the group is all sprawled out in Eret's living room, sitting and chattering away as comfortably as if Eret had invited them there himself, rather than been startled awake and then forced to let them stay.

"I still can't believe it was you." Snotlout says with a shake of his heavy head. "I could just...just punch you in the face, oh man. Oh man."  
He clenches his hand into a fist and makes a show of lunging at the dragon trapper, but, in the end, restrains himself with a growl of frustration.  
Eret gives a wry smile at that.  
"No need to worry. _**She**_ already did that, thanks." he says, rubbing at his jaw apprehensively and Ruffnut cackles on the floor.  
Hiccup flashes her an unamused look.  
"What? He deserved it." she grumbles.  
"Well..." Fishlegs cuts in. His eyes flicker back and forth timidly as he thinks. "we don't know that for sure..."  
"Uh. Did you see her face the day she left Berk?" Ruffnut scoffs. "Did you ever see her like that before then?" She leans in menacingly. "And have you ever seen her that way since?"  
Fishlegs slowly shakes his head and Ruffnut lets up with a satisfied nod.  
"Whatever he did, he deserved it. That's why she was after him, duh."

None of them are supposed to know any this, of course. But then again, it hadn't exactly been difficult for the entire group to pick up on either the hardness in Althea's face or the guilty discomfort on Eret's whenever the two of them spoke. And then, there was the fact that they had left the hall together last night, each looking very put out with the other, and that was when everything had finally clicked into place.

Immediately, they'd all gone running to Hiccup after that who, faced with no choice but to confirm their suspicions, had caved. Astrid had given him hell for it when she found out, of course, but she let him live at least, knowing that nobody save for her knew quite the whole story.  
That was one of the only things Althea had ever confided in her about after all, and she'd be damned if she betrayed that trust.

"Well, she forgave you. That's something." Astrid says. She shakes her hair out of her eyes and lets out a sigh. "I gotta be honest, I probably wouldn't have."  
"If it weren't for any of you, Althea wouldn't have either. I know that." Eret says. "I do, but..." he trails off.  
And six pairs of eyes blink at him, waiting for an answer.  
"But what?" Snotlout asks finally.

"...But it still isn't enough." Astrid realizes. She begins to smirk in amusement, blue eyes sparkling even in the dim, shadowed room. "You like her."  
Everyone goes still at the shock of it all.  
And Eret feels his face warm, just a little. Because he's known it for years and years, but this is the first time that _**anyone**_, anyone at all has ever spoken the fact out loud and it feels strange. Strange and frightening.

Tuffnut's crinkles his face in disgust, the first of the group to break the stunned silence.  
"Ew." he says.  
Hiccup quiets the twin with a dry look, and then, he turns back to Eret.

"Okay. So...You like her and...well, she forgave you. What exactly is the problem here? Because, I mean, it seems like things are going...pretty great, if you ask me."  
"It's not that easy, Hiccup." Astrid says knowingly, before Eret even has a chance to answer for himself. "Althea's not just gonna forget what happened. It's always gonna be between them."  
Fishlegs nods his agreement and for awhile, the whole group thinks on this hopeless truth; this hopeless truth with no real solution.

Just then, Astrid suddenly brightens with determination. She sits up straighter and she grins and she says,  
"Write for her."  
Eret frowns. For this is not at all what he expects to hear.  
"Write...Write what?"  
"A song." Astrid replies, as if it is the most obvious answer in the world.  
"...A what?"

"Oh, Eret. A song!" she repeats, exasperated. "It's an old village tradition. It's sort of dying out now, but it's what all of our parents did."  
"Did when...what?"  
Tuffnut grins evilly.  
"When they caught feelings." he says.  
"It's like this." Fishlegs explains. "When you like someone, you sing them a verse that you make up right there on the spot. And if the person you're singing to sings a verse back, it means they've accepted you. That becomes your wedding song."  
"Wedding song?!" Eret balks, but no one is listening.  
"It's not going to fix everything, but it's a start, I guess." Ruffnut says.  
"Better than nothing." Tuffnut agrees.

"Hang on just a moment there." Eret stammers uneasily. "What's this about a wedding? And how is a tradition that simple...and _**old**_, as you say..supposed to help?"  
Ruffnut snorts.  
"You obviously don't know Althea as well as you think." she says. And here, Astrid cuts in to explain with a bit more tact than Ruffnut is capable of showing.  
"Look, Althea would never admit it herself, but she's more...eccentric than she lets on. She's-..."  
"Tone deaf." Tuffnut deadpans.  
"And really loud." Fishlegs adds with a nod.  
"And there's only one song she's even half-decent at singing, so you'll be wanting to write your lyrics to that one." Snotlout offers helpfully. He leans in. "Trust me, you don't want to hear her version of-"  
"My _**point**_ is," Astrid interrupts, a murderous glint in her eye. Everyone shuts up and turns their attention to her once again. "this is a tradition she's always loved. And in our village, it's one that means everything. It's going to help. I promise."

Eret rubs at his chin thoughtfully as he mulls all of this over.  
He's never written a word of poetry or song in his life, but if it is for _**her**_...  
If it is for the sake of, not even having her return his feelings, but for the simple act of being that much closer to a friend, he knows he has to try.  
"...Alright. I'll do it." he says.  
And the others grin and let out collective sighs of relief at either having found a solution at last, or at the thought of not having to speak of such touchy feely things any longer.

A while later, as they are finally showing themselves out, Tuffnut hesitates by the door which is so unlike him that Eret feels compelled to ask what's wrong.  
"Look, dude. We like you and all...but..."  
The viking trails off and exchanges glances with the others.  
"We like her, too." Hiccup finishes for him. "And she might not exactly agree, but we _**are**_ her friends. So...just...don't screw this up a second time?"

Eret promises.  
He desperately hopes that it is one he can keep, this time.

* * *

_She is alone, and that is nothing new to her. But now, she is alone without a dragon by her side.  
And it is pitch black in the rusty old cell save for the scarce moonlight streaming in from the barred window high above her head._

_There is nothing inside this filthy prison. Althea has been given only the clothes on her back and a jug of water in the corner, but that is dwindling fast and is swimming with dust and bits of dirt that feel gritty on her teeth as it goes down._

_Using all her remaining strength, Althea pulls herself up now and she crawls over to the corner where she lifts the clay pot to her lips and she takes a long drink until her belly swells and sloshes with that and stops aching in its emptiness._  
_Then, she collapses on the cold stone floor again and she goes back to waiting._  
_She's been waiting this way for days._

_No one has come.  
__And she has not been fed and her wounds have not been treated and she falls asleep shivering on the hard ground every night as the biting winter wind blows snow and rain in through that one high opening to the outside world._

_Althea peers at the mottled back of her hand: scabbed-over patches of blue and green and purple and a pucker in her skin where the tip of Drago's staff had broken through and cracked the bones there underneath.  
It hurts. Everything hurts and the dragon rider spends all her time just lying there, feeling too weak to move and wondering if this is how everything, her life, ends.  
She'll die of disease or infection or starvation here, in a monster's hold, and nobody will even know._

_Althea blinks in the dark._  
_And she thinks of Berk. Of Berk and her parents. (But not of her dragon. For the guilt of it all.)_  
_And she pretends she's just a little girl of eight again; too happy and safe and stupid to ever even think of taking the risks that could lead her here._

_"I just wanted to be seen...By someone..." Althea whispers helplessly, thin voice hardly carrying in the empty room._  
_Of course, there is nothing and nobody out there to reply- just the dark and the moon and herself.  
__But then...  
_  
_"...sorry..."  
A voice.  
Not her own.  
__And all at once, Althea fears she is going mad in her hunger and her loneliness.  
__She never dares to speak out loud to herself again._

_Another day passes just like this one.  
And Althea expects the same neglect she's suffered the day after that one and the day after that and the day after that, as well._

_But suddenly, the very next morning, the doors at the end of the hall finally, finally swing open with a deafening thud and Althea struggles to actually believe that real **living**, **breathing**_ _people are here but...  
Althea learns to hate that too._  
_Because then, the beatings happen and the interrogation begins and as someone burns three lines of red across the back of her shoulder with a hot sharp blade, Althea screams and screams and she thinks that she misses being alone in the dark cell after all._

_But then, when the day's abuse is over, her tortured, fragile body is thrown carelessly back into the solitude again and she is reminded of everything that she must somehow live on without.  
__Warmth. Sustenance. Relief.  
_  
_And there she thinks again about which is worse.  
Neglect or punishment._

_In the end, she decides, she doesn't know._

* * *

"I'm back!"  
Althea shuts the front door behind her and braces herself because she expects to be pounced on by a jumpy, excited Nightfury. But instead, she finds that her home is eerily silent.  
"Hello?...I'm back!" she calls again, and then, very carefully, she ventures further inside until she happens upon-  
"Bloodbiter." Althea sighs.  
The black dragon lets out a testy snort and deliberately turns away from her, and Althea stands in the middle of her living room, at a loss for what to do.  
"Don't be cross, I didn't want to leave you behind." she tries.

But for Bloodbiter, apparently, that isn't good enough, and she pouts at the fact that Althea had agreed to fly any dragon that wasn't her (even if it had only happened because Hiccup was too busy overseeing a spat between Bucket and Mulch to fly Toothless himself).  
"He asked me to. I couldn't exactly say no." Althea continues. "He's the chief after all."  
Bloodbiter just continues to whine and sulk dramatically and Althea tries not to laugh as she begins peeling her gloves off her hands using her teeth.  
"Oh. Is that how you want to play this? Alright, well what about you then?" she asks. Althea takes on a false tone of sternness and she rests her hands on her hips as she speaks. "Don't you think for a second that i've just gone and forgotten that you let _**him**_ pet you all the time."  
But the Nightfury just utters a defiant gurble.

"What? No! Bad. Wrong. You're not supposed to be proud of that, Bloodbiter. What ever happened to loyalty and all that codswallop?" Althea questions indignantly.  
The dragon still offers no apologies.  
"Ohhh. Okay. Fine then." the dragon rider drawls. "Well, now i'm cross with you and so we're even."  
Althea huffs and she folds her arms over her chest exaggeratedly and turns away, too.  
Both dragon and rider remain like that for a few more stubborn, ridiculous seconds.  
And then, at just the same exact time, they both steal a quick peek over their shoulders...

And suddenly, Althea is laughing, and Bloodbiter is dashing towards her and knocking her to the ground and lapping at her face happily._  
_  
"I'm sorry for leaving you here." Althea says. Then, she giggles and pats the creature on top of her head. "Wake up earlier next time, and you can come too, alright?"  
The Nightfury trills her assent and finally, she lets Althea back on her feet. The dragon rider takes a moment to straighten herself out and then she heads for the kitchen to find something to eat. The dragon follows after her.

"Now that i've mentioned it though, why _**do **_you like Eret so much, Bloodbiter?" Althea asks. "You've never told me."  
And suddenly, the dragon quirks her ears upward and she smiles an eager, toothless smile.  
"Oh...Oh no..." Althea groans. "That face...you're going to draw something, aren't you?"  
The dragon chirrups.  
And suddenly, Althea is the very picture of desperation.  
"Wait, wait, wait." she says, clambering for the pantry. "Before we go, let me at least grab a chunk of bread or someth-"  
But it is already too late. The dragon clamps her teeth around the hem of Althea's shirt and tugs her outside.

* * *

"I'm hungry, Bloodbiter." Althea moans in a way that is very undignified and even a little bit embarrassing. She would never use that tone with anyone else, of course, but Bloodbiter is family.  
This said-family member, however, rather heartlessly chooses to ignore Althea completely and, instead, continues twirling around in the dirt with a branch between her jaws.  
From out of the corner of her eye, Althea catches Mili chomping down a mouthful of grass and staring at her triumphantly.  
"Oh, don't be rude." Althea grumbles. "Or I won't take you to the east hills for a week and you know the grass is best there."  
The sheep bleats disdainfully and Althea can't help but chuckle.  
"I'm just kidding." she promises.  
The woolen creature accepts her apology, and then, her and the sheep rest side-by-side as they wait for the dragon to finally finish up her masterpiece.  
After a few more minutes, Bloodbiter finally does and then, she sits back and she blinks just once in anticipation.

As Althea stands and dusts herself off, she begins to wonder if perhaps, this time, she will be able to understand _**something**_ in the picture. Maybe one of the squiggles or loops will look familiar?  
But she trudges over and takes a glance and...no, things are still just the very same as they ever were.  
"Um. I see, so that's why." Althea mumbles, nodding vigorously. "Mm, I get it now. Yes, you're absolutely right..."  
And Bloodbiter warbles in frustration because Althea is a terrible liar.  
But then, the dragon looks and she sees that her rider is smiling tiredly as she says, "Well, if that's true...then who am I to come between a friendship like that?..."

And this is too sad a thing for Bloodbiter to be frustrated at.  
Because the Nightfury knows that the dragon rider hates this particular human. But the Nightfury also remembers now that the dragon rider loves _**her**_ very much_; _loves her enough to allow Bloodbiter to seek the dragon trapper out, even at the cost of old wounds tearing back open.

It all came down to that month they'd spent apart, you see.  
The time in which Bloodbiter had been getting rewarded with good meat and proper care for doing Drago Bludvists work (unwillingly, yes, but with no real danger of death because she was deemed too valuable to lose), while Althea, on the other hand...  
The Nightfury suddenly lets out a sad chirp at the memories and Althea frowns in concern, clueless to the situation.  
"Bloodbiter, what's wrong?" the human asks.

But not wanting to drudge up old nightmares, the dragon just looks at her rider for a long while. Then, she blinks mischievously and spits up a small puff of smoke right in her face.  
"Wha- I told you not to do that! You! Get back here!"  
The dragon garbles a laugh before she races back into the house and Althea grins and chases after her. For some reason, Mili follows too, shuffling after them on her short, stubby little legs.

And after another good hour of playing petty tricks and revenge, the rider, the dragon, and all ten sheep sit outside and eat their midday meal together, enjoying the good sea air, and the company, of course.

* * *

_One week and a half.  
It is that long before it happens._

_And at first, the scent is so strong and yet so foreign that Althea thinks she has to be dreaming._  
_But her eyes flutter open and she hauls herself up..._  
_And it is really there._  
_A silver plate on a wooden tray._  
_**Food.  
**Food at long last._

_She scrambles over and then, she holds her breath and just looks down at the meal for seconds. Then, very carefully, she tears off the smallest piece of the meat and lays it on her tongue and oh, it is so wonderful to** taste** something that she doesn't even notice the tears running down her cheeks._

_All at once, Althea's careful control shatters and she reaches for another big handful and stuffs it between her lips._

_This time, she recognizes a sharp, unfamiliar tang in the flesh, but too hungry to find that suspicious, she continues to wolf the food down with her bare hands anyway, one mouthful after another, with no time to think or comprehend or even breathe completely. She eats and gasps and chokes and then she eats some more and god, she feels so pitiful, and the back of her throat swells and burns because she hasn't tasted anything at all in so long, but she keeps eating because she's just so hungry and having something to chew and taste and swallow is such a sweet, sweet unimaginable blessing._

_In a few short minutes, the plate is completely emptied._

_And Althea wakes from her ravenous trance only then and she looks down at her stained shirt and messy hands and she feels the grease dribble down her chin..._

_And she feels humiliated, even there in the dark with no one around to see her._

_But then, there in her worst moment, Althea hears the door swing open and her heart positively breaks apart as heavy footsteps echo throughout the room._

_A large shadow appears through a sliver of moonlight and then Drago Bludvist himself stops right before her cell._  
_He sees the empty plate and a frightening grin crosses his face._  
_Still, Althea does not, **will** not shrink back even with tears stinging at her eyes in the face of her shame._  
_"What do you want?" she hisses. _

_Drago laughs for a long while.  
__"...Do you know what it is you've eaten, you stupid girl?"_

_Althea says nothing, resolved to stay as strong as stone, but she feels the beginning of her fear start to show on her face. __And Drago Bludvist knows this, so he leans in so close to the cell that she can feel the heat of his breath on her face as he says it._

_"Dragon meat."_

_Althea swallows a lump in her throat and suddenly, her mind is racing and she is terrified._

_"...You're lying." she whispers._

_She hopes, she prays. But..._

_"Am I?" Drago sneers, and then, he tosses something out at her from behind his back and the enormous, heavy thing, it hits the bars of the cell and lands with one final damning thump on the ground._

_One look.  
One single look and bile rises up in her throat and she gags and wretches and her stomach empties itself out right there, and Althea's body is wracked with heavy sobs and she breaks for the very first time.  
It can't be...  
It can't be true.  
But it is.  
Oh, it is. _

_"I wonder. What does it taste like, dragon rider?" Drago says with a cruel, cruel smile. "Even a monster like me does not know. But now, you do."_

_Althea cannot reply to this for the grief that shakes her insides._

_But then, Drago Bludvist makes to leave her, and she is finally damaged and frightened enough to beg him not to go, because then, she'll be alone. Alone with nothing but **that **for company._

_"No. No! I...Can't...Please! Don't! Don't...leave!..." she begs through chokes and whimpers that tremor through her whole body._  
_But leave her, he does._  
_And once the door swings shut, Althea crawls to the furthest corner of her cell and she huddles into herself and she screams and she cries at it the whole night._  
_She begs for it not to come any closer. She begs for its' forgiveness._  
_She begs for understanding._  
_It does not answer._

_The dragon's head, still fresh with blood, sits there outside her cell silently.  
And it stares at her with its' large, piercing yellow eyes for days and days and days. Her only companion.  
_

_Althea does not see Drago Bludvist again for a very long time._  
_But the questioning continues and the routine is the same and the only thing she's given to satisfy her needs is water; water until she thinks she may die and then they give her dragon meat again.  
__And it's that or starve and so Althea chooses to eat. But her throat burns and her eyes sting and well up every time she does because of all the blood she has on her hands.  
And she hates herself every day for her weakness; for her hunger, even although she cannot help it._

_**It.**  
That** thing**.  
The dismembered head of the beast remains there in its' place throughout all this time, filling the cell with a rancid, sick odor as it rots and becomes infested with maggots and worms, and burns itself into the back of her mind forever.  
And despite every other horror that she endures in the coming days of her capture, Althea never finds anything more terrifying than being trapped there in the dark, night after night, with that lone pair of empty, empty eyes.  
_

* * *

He finds her completely by accident, yet again.  
Roll of parchment and a stick of charcoal in hand, Eret had come to his very favorite place on Berk to think, so as to work on the confounding task of earning back a certain dragon rider's favor. But when he had finally finished trudging up the mountain path (trudging instead of flying because he had hoped to find some inspiration in the forest), Eret had neared the clearing only to find that none other than Althea Cross herself had taken his place.

His presence still undetected thanks to the cover of the trees, Eret glances down at Skullcrusher uncertainly.  
The dragon, quite obviously, does not offer any advice and so the dragon trapper lets out a small sigh and he hesitates.  
He takes just one more step closer.

And he realizes that Althea is completely alone, sitting there on that ledge that overlooks Berk, and that is quite unusual for her. Still, she seems unguarded and deep in thought, and there is a softness in her features as she rests her chin in one hand and fiddles with a frayed edge of her tunic with the other, and looks out at the world.  
But then, Eret sees that there is a sorrow there, too, and so he decides he'd best leave her be.  
Tucking the paper underneath his arm, he turns to head back down, but then-  
_Snap!_

Eret cringes as the twig breaks underneath his boot and quickly, he sneaks a glance back at Althea, hoping he has not disturbed her. But she has already jumped to her feet, suddenly very alert of her surroundings.  
She sees him then.  
And her tense shoulders relax.

"...Afternoon, dragon rider." he says after a moment.  
"Afternoon dragon tra- erm...Eret." she answers.  
An awkward silence passes.  
Then, Althea notices the objects in his hands and she asks, "What are you doing with those?"  
Eret's cheeks flush and he hurriedly grasps for a reasonable excuse.  
"...Thought i'd do a spot of drawing." he lies.  
"Really. I never took you for much of an artist." Althea answers with a frown. Then, remembering the fact that she is supposed to be amiable, she offers a strained smile. "...I guess you _**were** _always whittling though, weren't you?..."  
They stand around and fidget for a minute longer and then, she lets out a sigh.  
"Well, come on, then. There's enough space for the both of us here. Skullcrusher, you too."  
She adds that last bit rather fondly.  
And of course, Eret takes her up on the offer and settles beside her on the ground as the dragon curls up to sleep a distance away.  
The only problem with this, of course, is...

"What is it you're going to draw?" Althea asks, peering over his shoulder. And he can feel her soft breath graze his cheek.  
"Just...you know, things." Eret answers, ever-so-eloquently.  
The dragon rider arches a brow at him suspiciously, then shakes her head and retreats back inside of her own thoughts, and Eret calms himself, glances down at his parchment, and then begins to make a few erratic marks on the page so he isn't caught out to be a liar.  
They stay quiet for awhile and that is all Eret expects. But then, it happens...

"...Did you know that I used to be afraid of heights?" Althea murmurs, disturbing the stillness.  
Eret glances at her in surprise, but her eyes remain fixed on the horizon, so he takes this new information and tries to match it to the fearless dragon rider that he knows from his memories, but the pieces just don't fit.  
"No...I didn't know that." he answers.  
"It's true...My palms used to sweat just looking over the edges of the island." she says with a quiet laugh. "But you know, i'm not afraid anymore. That's what a dragon's trust means... It means that, suddenly, you're everything, you have the world at your fingertips." Althea falls silent. Then, "...It makes you who you are. Especially here in Berk."

The words are happy. But her tone is not.  
And so Eret thinks back to what gossip he's heard of Althea over the past few days again. He thinks back to the reason they'd first met, the reason she'd been captured, the reason she'd been hurting all her life. And he says the words before he can stop himself.

"You're more than just your dragon, you know..."

Startled, Althea looks up at him at long last and she blinks.  
Then, almost smiles.  
"...Those are rich words, coming from you." she says quietly, but there is not a trace of true blame or hatred in her voice, just this one time.  
A light breeze blows in from the sea, rustling her hair, and the sun casts a golden light against the curve of her cheek and the line of her shoulder and for another long precious moment, Althea simply lets her gaze linger in his, eyes warm with gratitude and peace and tenderness.  
And the entire time it happens, Eret struggles to breathe evenly through the overwhelming feelings that threaten to suffocate him all at once.

But then, much much too soon as always, Althea suddenly looks down at Eret's paper and she laughs, breaking the spell.  
"What is that supposed to be?" she asks.  
Eret glances down at the abstract mess in his hands and, still not quite in his right mind just yet, stammers, "It's...That is a...dragon, obviously."  
Althea snorts in amusement.  
"That thing?" she says. "Hmm..."  
She tilts her head at the drawing and seems to consider it seriously for a moment. Then, Althea plucks the charcoal from between Eret's fingers.  
"Here." she says, adding a stray line. "And here."  
She shades in a dark splotch and draws in another shape.  
And Eret watches in amazement as the mess of odd markings miraculously**_ do_** come together to resemble a Deadly Nadder eventually.  
"How...How do you manage something like that?"  
Althea smiles mysteriously as she rises to her feet and, too late, the dragon trapper realizes he should not have asked.  
Because he thinks he knows the answer, although Althea does not _**know**_ that he knows.

"...You study them." she says with an apathetic shrug.  
He says nothing.  
She blinks and looks away.  
"...They're all just shapes and colors in the end..."  
And with that, Althea turns and starts down the pathway to descend the mountain again without so much as a good-bye.

Still, Eret keeps staring after her, even when she is long gone. And suddenly, he knows what the first few lines of his song will be.  
He jots them down as quickly as he can, heart straining under the weight of all his unspoken words.

* * *

_Ugh. I keep typing "dragon rapper" instead of "dragon trapper"...That would definitely make for an interesting story, wouldn't it? _


	10. Of The Truths That Condemn Them

_Yikes, these chapters are getting long...And really...erm...terrible...  
This one, I just...don't even...So, yeah. __I know there are probably lots of mistakes so just let me know and i'll fix it up! Not just grammar or spelling either. If there's anything that's just like, "What's the point of that?" or "Uh. What?", shoot me a PM!  
__But thank you so much for all your amazing words, everyone! __I couldn't do this without you. And even if you're just a silent reader, thank you, thank you for giving my story the time of day!_

_I really hope you enjoy, all!_

_(Also, I obviously don't know whether or not Mildew's part in this story is all that realistic, considering he's such a conniving pretzel face in the series, but...here's to hoping, I guess...)_

* * *

Althea's friends are not the subtle sort. Eret had understood that from the very first time he had ever met them.  
Still, he had never expected that they could be quite this bad.  
You see, only a couple of days had passed since the group had confronted him about his rather complicated situation, but already, they were showing heavy signs of impatience with his inaction and if that meant nothing for him but disappointed sighs and irritated looks, Eret could live with that.  
But no, these vikings, they're devious enough to know just exactly how to ruffle his feathers.

It all starts in the great hall one rather brisk evening.  
The fires lit all around the chamber cast pretty silhouettes that flicker and dance across the grand stone walls of the room and the faces of those who have gathered are shadowed as they talk in amicable voices and mill about in groups, waiting for the village meeting to begin.  
As the rule states, at least one member from each of the families of Berk is present. However, on nights like this, when the people are anxious to be rid of the winter and are eager for the announcement of spring, there are more in attendance than usual; infants and elders and bachelors, as well as wives and husbands.  
Of course, for people like Althea and Eret who live alone, it makes no difference what they think the meeting will consist of.  
It will always be they who have to attend.

"What are you waiting for?" Astrid mouths at the dragon trapper from her seat across the room. She tilts her head towards the oblivious Althea Cross, who is presently sitting on the floor far away from anyone else, and grins meaningfully.  
Eret pretends not to see her.  
That, however, is clearly a mistake because the next thing he knows, Ruffnut bursts out, "Oh, come on! Just get that perfectly sculpted behind over there already you Son of Eret!"  
A couple of the villagers flash her scandalized looks, and Eret shrinks low in his chair, cheeks blooming red from mortification.  
Beside him, Fishlegs and Snotlout snicker openly.  
"Will you quit it?" Eret whispers.  
The two vikings immediately clap their hands over their mouths to stifle their juvenile giggles, but after awhile, that is abandoned once again and they are slapping their hands against their knees as they snort with hearty chortles and loud guffaws.  
Eret buries his face in his hands and groans.

His only real consolation is that, even to all of this, Althea does not pay attention. She remains huddled beside the fireplace in the corner, Bloodbiter at her back. Her face is a perfect show of her typical absence as she rests against the enormous creature and stares into the flames, ignoring the shuffling and harrumphing of the burly village men who stand around nearby.  
Once, just once, Eret sees her whisper something to Bloodbiter and then the dragon and rider of share a secretive giggle between themselves. But other than that, nothing. She pays no attention to what goes on around her and, if she notices the knowing eyebrow waggles and the finger pistols and the tongue clicks Snotlout sends her way, it does not show in her expression.  
"Just go and talk to her." Snotlout says smugly, noticing the fleeting glances of envy showing on Eret's face.  
The former dragon trapper lets out a sigh.  
He's been caught out.  
So, he musters all his courage and gets to his feet, but then...

The heavy doors at the entrance swing open and all the heads in the room turn to see Hiccup marching in- tailed by Toothless of course.  
Quickly, Eret sits again as the chief makes his way to the raised throne that has been placed at the head of the room just for this occasion. The wood is worn and smooth, but intricately engraved and brightly painted with dragons and other fantastical beasts to mark Hiccup's position of power. It is evident though, that he is still not completely familiar with wielding that level of influence just yet as he squirms in the chair to get comfortable.  
"Alright, well." he says, once he's settled. "Looks like everyone's here."

Eret tries to pay attention as the viking starts the meeting off. Really, he does.  
And he tells himself that he hardly even notices if a certain dragon rider is there or not, to save himself from the embarrassment of having mistimed his attempt to speak with her. (Snotlout's amused snorts aren't particularly helpful in that regard.)  
"...and, well, we've all noticed that it's probably not the safest idea..." Hiccup is saying.  
Eret continues to listen with great interest. He is determined to let nothing interfere with his razor sharp focus.

A new invention for the hatchery. Yes, of course. Problems with the way they've been storing things. Very riveting stuff...The dragon eggs keep cracking...  
Working on...erm...perfecting...something or other...What?  
Eret holds out his pretense for hardly a second longer.  
And then, before he realizes it himself, his eyes flit in her direction.  
_Damn it._

Eret lets out a heavy sigh as he leans back in his seat.  
And then he thinks, well, he can't exactly blame himself if he's distracted.  
It's been days since he'd last talked to her.  
Oh, they had seen the odd glimpse of each other around Berk, of course, and when it happened, Althea was always polite and not opposed to exchanging a perfectly civil, if somewhat still guarded, hello. But both trapper and rider know that they are caught at the strangest of impasses. And sometimes, they can't help but question what in the world it is they're doing, feigning the beginnings of some paltry friendship (_**just**_ friendship) and never speaking of what could have been, what _**would **_have been, had Eret not done what he had.

The song is apparently his solution.  
But, gods, the _**song**_...  
Just thinking about the childish rhyme he'd composed makes Eret's stomach do a dreadful flip-flop and he grimaces as he tightens his grip around the armrest of his chair in an attempt to stave off his self-consciousness.

Fishlegs frowns.  
"Psst. You feeling okay?"  
Eret's fingers creak like a very old door hinge as he uncurls them.  
"I'm fine."

"So, before I move on, any concerns? Questions?" Hiccup says to the room.  
Old man Mildew lifts his weathered, wrinkled hand and then steps forward with a huff, indicating his imminent tantrum.  
Still, when he actually speaks, his voice is calm and he drawls out his syllables into long, exaggerated croons that can only mean trouble.  
"You know, one morning, Hiccup," he begins casually. "why, the morning of the feast, actually- when _**was**_ that again? Oh, my, my. That was nearly _**weeks**_ ago now, wasn't it? How time flies." He laughs with feigned good-humor, but nobody bothers to react, so he continues. "Well, never mind that. You see, that morning, I was sitting at my table, minding my own business and eating my midday meal. As docile and gentle as a lamb, I was. You know me." the old man says.  
A pause, and that is when his eyes suddenly narrow into angry slits and he gripes, "So imagine my surprise when all of a sudden, one of those beasts came crashing through my roof! I demand _**some**_ punishment for what those twins have done and I won't rest till it happens!"  
Hiccup sighs. The other villagers sigh, too.

"I already promised to have someone fix the damage. And it's not like you don't have somewhere to stay while they make the repairs," answers Hiccup, in a rather dry tone. "so what more do you want?"  
The hunched man suddenly begins to smile again.  
This is the question he's wanted to hear all along, obviously.  
"Oh, i'd expect those twins to be doing the fixing, of course." he answers pleasantly, crooked teeth gleaming in the low lights. "That's just a given, don't you think?"  
"Are you kidding me? That'll take _**days**_." Tuffnut complains, pushing to the front of the crowd.  
A few second later, Ruffnut also topples out from between two rather heavy-set villagers and chimes, "Yeah."  
"Well, you really should have considered that before your dragon set fire to my house!"  
"It was an accident!"  
"Like that matters!"  
Ruffnut then mutters something underneath her breath that Eret can't quite make out from where he is, but he does hear Tuffnuts snort in response, "Yeah. No kidding.", so he gathers it isn't something particularly gracious.  
"Why, listen here, you little-" Mildew fumes.

"Hey now, let's all settle down, why don't we?" Gobber interjects. The stout viking limps between the temperamental group, holding out his hand and his hook to keep them all at a safe distance. Once he's sure they won't jump at each other's throats, he turns to Hiccup. "As much as I hate to say it, Mildew has a point, Hiccup. They're the ones who caused the damage, they need to be the ones who fix it."  
Horrified, the twins look to their friend for help, but the chief just gives them a sorry shake of his head.  
"You heard the man." he says.  
"Ugh. You can't be serious." Ruffnut whines.  
Tuffnut groans. Mildew grins.  
And Gobber shoos the whole lot of them out from the center of the room, saying, "Oh, we're always dead serious here on Berk. You know that." He gives them a winning smile. "You'd better work hard if you want to be finished in time to celebrate Thawfest. It's gonna be good this year."  
The twins grumble and mutter some more as they go.

"Okay then..." Hiccup sighs. "Any **_other _**issues?"  
This time, Spitelout Jorgensen, Snotlout's father, steps up.  
"Someone's dragon keeps _**going**_ in our crops." he announces. "Hookfang provides my family with quite enough fertilizer and we don't need any more, thank you very much!"  
And so the meeting continues long into the night.

* * *

_Eret knows that when Drago Bludvist invites him into his fortress after the next drop, it is not out of kindness.  
__Oh, of course Drago smiles and makes grand gestures as he leads Eret around the base, but always, there is a malicious edge in his eyes and a coarse rasp in his voice that sounds too violent and too terrible, no matter the hospitable words that come out of his mouth, to be anything other than unsettling._

_Still, there are no beatings. No threats._  
_Which is especially suspicious considering that it has only been two weeks- t__wo short weeks since Eret had ruined everything._

_The dragon trapper absently runs his hands against the fading scar that still stretches across his cheek and__ wonders what kind of sick game Drago is playing at now.  
__But, as he can't figure it out for the life of him, Eret blindly follows the man through the twists and turns of the winding corridors into the kitchens, the armory, the barracks, the dragon keep.  
Endless walking, endless descriptions of every precious little thing.  
And Eret couldn't care less about any of it.  
He just wants out already- from the anguish of not knowing what the danger is._

_"And in here," Drago Bludvist proclaims, coming to a sudden halt in front of a pair of black iron doors. He lets out a slow, rumbling chuckle and then his dark, hooded eyes stare into Eret's and the dragon trapper's breath stops almost completely at an understanding that's come just a little too late._

_"In here," Drago starts again. "we keep the prisoners."_  
_A malicious grin as he produces a ring of keys from his pocket and offers them to the dragon trapper freely._  
_"Care to take a look?"_

_It is a test.  
A horrifying test and Eret only has two options here._  
_The first is to hide.  
__Hide_ _and let Drago know for certain that Eret is just the mindless, gutless, scum-of-the-earth follower he pretends to be.  
__His second option is...to go in and be forced to face her__. Go in and see__ for himself the fate he had just barely avoided and unknowingly cast off onto someone else; someone that he loved._

_Eret shifts nervously._  
_There...**is** a part of him. A small, little part that wants so desperately to relieve himself of the mystery at last.  
How badly is she hurt? Do they feed her? Give her a blanket for warmth, at least?  
A crust of bread, a cup of water, anything at all?  
...Do they beat her?...  
Is she dead?... _

_At that last question, a strong resounding "Yes." suddenly rings through his mind before he can stop it and Eret reels back as if he's been burned.  
No.  
He...He can't._

_Bludvist laughs at Eret's weakness.  
It is exactly what he'd expected._

_"Onward then." he says, looping the keys around a hook at his waist.  
Eret sighs with relief. __But Drago's entertainment isn't over yet._

_The evening's meal is tense and more torturous than anything Eret has endured, the silence occasionally punctuated by echoing screams from somewhere far down below.  
Whether the screams are hers or not, he doesn't know. Either way, he doesn't like to think of it._  
_Eret swallows a lump in his throat and glances at Drago furtively from the far end of the dining table.  
_  
_Bludvist just lifts his fork to his mouth calmly, grinning as if the screams are not even there.  
He lays the utensil back down, lines it up precisely beside his plate, and reaches for his goblet of red, red wine._

* * *

Throughout the entire meeting, Althea remains where she is, absorbing every fascinating thing that happens.  
It's been far too long since she's been around for one of these meetings and the problems that the villagers bring to Hiccup now, one by one, are all vastly different from the problems she remembers.  
They're...kinder: less about killing things. More about helping them.

Case in point:  
"Hmm...This one's kind of hard to tell. Any thoughts?" Hiccup says, circling an ailing Gronckle.  
"Oh, it's hurting the poor thing." Valka tsks sadly. She bends to undo the clasps that stretch around the creature as she says to Mrs. Haldi, "This one needs rest. And a new saddle, too. Come by the blacksmith tomorrow and we'll have something for you by then."  
And at that, Hiccup grins up at his mother in clear admiration of her ability to understand dragons even better than he can.  
"Thanks, Mom." he says.  
The tall, elegant woman smiles back with a nod.

Althea bites at her lips and looks away.  
Because there it is, the fundamental difference between her and everyone else on this godforsaken spit of rock; the reason she'd always felt compelled to leave.

She is completely alone.  
And not only that, she is alone in _**being**_ alone.  
But she doesn't want to run from that. Not anymore, at least, because doing that has caused both her and Bloodbiter enough trouble for a lifetime, she thinks.  
Still...Her life here now, it seems too..._**something**_\- too quiet, after the years she'd spent fighting dragons and then discovering the world from the back of one and then questing for her revenge on a certain dragon trapper she'd nearly died because of.

And that's when she finally realizes.  
She isn't quite alone in being alone any longer after all.  
There is at least one other person like her on Berk now.  
Althea's eyes flicker toward Eret briefly and as she glimpses his dark hair and warm brown eyes, she wonders if, at times, he ever feels as strange as she does these days: like she doesn't know what to do with herself now that there is peace and quiet in the big, wide world at last.  
But before Althea can think on that for too long, Hiccup draws the gathering to a close.

"And Thawfest is coming up which I know some of us are excited about. Oh and uh, another dragon race a week after. And that's all. So, good work today, everybody."

Gradually, the villagers all stand or stretch and share brief 'goodbyes' or 'goodnights' with each other before they begin to file out of the room and head for home.  
Althea rises too and arches out her sore back with an easy sigh .

"Come on, Bloodbiter." she says after. "Let's get some sleep, shall we?"  
The Nightfury lets out a quiet warble of agreement and then, the creature rises to her feet and walks alongside her rider as they plod across the chamber towards the exit.  
Even from a foot away from the actual threshold, Althea can tell that outside is shockingly cold compared to the comfortable warmth of the hall and for a moment, Althea just presses into Bloodbiter's side with a shiver.  
She doesn't want to go...

"She's right over there."  
"That's certainly...true. I guess. But-but she looks tired, doesn't she. It'd might better just to let her go this once, you know."  
"Get it together, man!"  
"I am together."  
"Ugh!"  
Tuffnut flashes him a dark look as they continue walking but says nothing else, so Eret mistakes that as a sign his friend has given up all hope and he foolishly lets his guard down as they near the young woman in question. The dragon trapper hardly expects the forceful shove the twin gives him as they are passing by.

It happens all in a second.  
His body collides into hers and the surprised dragon rider, who had just been in the middle of yawn, lets out a small shriek as she nearly goes toppling over the edge of the steps. Eret does not even think before he reaches for her, heart pounding at the mere thought of her getting hurt on his account. (Well, on his account, **_again_**, anyway.)  
He finds her hand. Pulls her in.  
And when he realizes that he has done it, he has caught her, he lets out a tremendous sigh of relief.

"My bad." Tuffnut snickers as he steps lightly past the pair. He flashes Eret a suggestive grin at the fact that he is now holding a very confused Althea flush against his chest and then, he bounds off.

For a moment after, Eret's cheeks warm at the teasing. Then, he realizes there are more important matters to turn his attention to right now.  
"Are you alright?" he asks Althea kindly.  
"Er. Yes...Just fine." she answers. "...Thanks."  
"...You're very welcome."  
Bloodbiter perks up at the sight of them together, but her enthusiasm soon fades as Eret drops Althea's hand and disentangles his arm from around her shoulders.  
He clears his throat.  
She blinks at the sky.  
And they stand around in awkward silence for another few seconds.

"...So. 'Perfectly sculpted behind', was it?" Althea finally says, to alleviate some of the tension. She casts him a peculiar look.  
_Oh no, _Eret thinks. _She's heard._  
"I...don't know what Ruffnut was talking about..."  
Althea just barely manages to suppress a laugh at his flustered expression.  
"I'm sure."  
She mimics one of Snotlout's lewd winks and tacky finger pistols and Eret vows he'll make the whole lot of his friends pay for this later on-  
"Well, shall we?" Althea says with a small smile.  
...or perhaps he can let them off, just this once.

Together, they start down the steps and the entire time they walk through the village, Eret sorts through his mind furiously for something to talk to her about. Because any silence that stretches on for too long reminds him that there is a song, a very mortifying one, that needs singing.  
"Are things always that...lively? At the village meetings, I mean?" Eret asks.  
Althea shrugs. "I don't really remember." she says. "As a child, I went to some of them because I had to, but that was a long time ago. When I got Bloodbiter here, suddenly I just always seemed to be gone when they happened."  
"Gone?" Eret echoes. "So leaving Berk was a habit for you?"  
Althea hesitates, then shrugs and he takes that to mean yes.  
"...Did no one try to stop you?"  
Althea shakes her head.  
"No...Not really."  
They continue on in silence.

"...Althea, how long have your parents been dead?"  
Althea sighs, trying to force down the irritation that is beginning to well up at the questions; questions he still, as of yet, has not earned the right to ask.  
"...A while." she answers shortly, hoping he will understand that it is best to let certain subjects rest.  
He does not.  
"So who raised you then?"

Finally, Althea lets out a cross breath and she stops in her tracks entirely to give him a pointed glance and ask, "Is there a reason you're interrogating me?"  
"What? Oh...That is- No. Sorry." Eret mutters sheepishly.  
And despite everything, Althea does feel a guilty seeing his brow crease and shoulders hunch.  
"...It's fine." she says. "...I'm sorry too. For...losing my temper."  
She tries for a smile then and some part of Eret hopes that she will answer his question now, but she doesn't and that is how Eret knows that it is not yet the right time to sing.  
There's still a world of mistrust between them.

"...Well, i'm this way." Althea says, tilting her head in the opposite direction that Eret needs to go.  
He nods.  
"...Right. And i'm that way." he says quietly.

The look in his eyes, reluctant and adoring, obviously unwilling to part, makes Althea let out a resolved sigh.  
And then, quite unexpectedly, she takes a step forward and takes his large hand in hers.  
She gives it a light squeeze.

"Goodnight, Eret." she murmurs timidly over her shoulder as she hurries away.  
Bloodbiter flashes him a toothless grin before she, too, leaves.

Eret blinks once, rather dumbly. Then, he startles awake.  
"Goodnight!..." he calls in response.  
He doesn't know if she's heard, and it probably wouldn't matter either way- it's just a simple 'goodnight'.  
But part of him still hopes that she has.

* * *

_Later that night, completely by chance, he does see her.  
__It happens like this:_

_Eret paces around the grounds alone in the moonlight, boots crunching in the snow.  
__This way and that, around in circles aimlessly, he wanders.  
__And he nearly drives himself to madness with the question: __Was it right that he didn't look?  
He hadn't...necessarily been trying to spare just himself...It was, after all, possible that he could have unknowingly spared **her** from some kind of humiliation, too..._

_Eret sighs at the pathetic excuse for a man that he is and a puff of white air streams from his lips because of the cold._

_Of course it wasn't right..._  
_How **could** it be?  
_  
_She- who'd made air feel like it was worth so much more than just for breathing, who'd made sights seem new and bright without any trace of the old, dull colors his world had been tainted with before, who'd made sounds into songs and scars into bright stars and who'd somehow always been his only safe haven...  
She- who'd turned his days into something more precious than plain ugly hours to waste away- had been willing to give him an entirely new life.  
With her.  
And in return, he had torn her down.  
He'd ripped her heart right out from between her tender aching ribs and he'd served it, still bruised and bleeding, up to Drago Bludvist on a golden platter like a sick, groveling dog.  
_

_Suddenly too exhausted to walk any more, Eret slumps down on the ground in front of a crumbling stone wall.  
And, arms resting against his knees, he leans his head back and shuts his eyes._

_He inhales slowly, exhales._  
_Inhales again, exhales._  
_And the entire time he does this, Eret tries to feel the air flooding into his lungs; tries to make it mean something again._  
_A hopeless task._

_"I just wanted to be seen...By someone."_  
_  
Eret starts awake to full attention at the sound.  
And, heart jumping, his head whips this way and that in search of the source, but all he sees is miles and miles of ice and snow and dark._  
_But then, there it is..._

_A little ways further along the wall, a barred window, the shape of a half-moon, hidden nearly completely by the fallen snow._  
_The voice is coming from there. **Her** voice, he thinks, but...he isn't sure._

_Eret doesn't dare to let out his trapped breath or even blink as he contemplates the question again._  
_Save himself from the truth or no?_

_This second chance..._  
_No risks, no danger._  
_Just answers._

_He gives in._

_Edging ever closer and closer, quietly, and careful not to let the moon reflect his shadow in its light and alert her of his presence, Eret peers down into the dark. And oh, what he sees..._

_The once proud dragon rider, lying there on the stone floor.  
__Thin and filthy and...and not moving at all._  
_For one gut-wrenching moment, Eret forgets he's just heard the sound of her voice and he foolishly believes that she is dead._  
_But then, even when he sees her blink and realizes she is not, the relief he feels is fleeting._

_Because..._  
_Dark, mottled patches on the back of her hand._  
_A deep line of red across her chest._  
_Pale, sick skin that hasn't seen sunlight in days._  
_And that is only just the beginning._

_"...I'm sorry..." Eret whispers, his voice thick with sadness, eyes beginning to smart with tears.  
__For the better part of the night, the dragon trapper remains there, kneeling in the snow as still as a statue, and watching over his heart all the while as she drifts in and out of a troubled, nightmarish sleep._

_And when dawn finally bleeds rays of violet and pink into the sky and it comes time to part, Eret promises to return to her again if he can._

_He knows it would be no comfort to her if she knew he were here.  
She would hate it and with good reason._

_Still, he swears to do it._

_Of course, that is at the beginning, when Eret does not expect it can get any worse._  
_  
He is wrong._

* * *

"..._and, my love, she swore she'd wait for me, through all the starless nights. One day, she'd pass her years with me, her life with me, her days with me..." _  
Althea hums a little ditty as she walks through the village, a sack of newly clipped sheep's wool thrown over her shoulder. She's not quite accustomed to feeling this merry, but spring is here and the sun, while not bright and warm exactly, makes the sky look far less dreary than usual.  
Also, it is the day of Thawfest at last, and there's a thrill of excitement in the air so contagious Althea can hardly afford to keep completely silent.

She weaves through the busy town center and she has to admit, it is an odd sight to see so many actually _**happy**_ vikings running about, preparing for the festival set to begin at noon and continue for the customary three days. The people of Berk are more known for being bitter and hard-headed than for being jovial and welcoming.  
Oh, but the extravagant decorations...  
Althea laughs. Those are new, and there are clumsy garlands of flowers and ribbons and bright paints positively everywhere- adorning the doorways and littering the pathways, even some of the townspeople themselves have helmets with silky pastel strips of cloth fluttering in the wind behind them or trailing petals everywhere they go.

But, Althea decides that she likes the way it all looks.  
She thinks her parents would have too, given what Gobber had once told her.  
Speaking of which...

"Well, look who it is! And right on time, too!" the cheery man says as she approaches his shop. He glances at her side as she draws closer and his brows rise in mild surprise.  
"Bloodbiter not with you?" he asks.  
Althea shakes her head.  
"With Hiccup and Toothless." she answers.

Gobber grins in understanding at that.  
"Ah, well. It is almost spring, eh? And you know what they say about love in spring."  
"Yes, although 'spring' according to Berk isn't quite the same as spring anywhere else, is it?" Althea answers, nodding towards old man Mildew across the way. The snarling elder is using his staff to presently shoo an amorous couple out of the public eye.  
Gobber chortles.  
"Quite right. Still, wouldn't it be something to have our two resident Nightfuries hatch a wee little one between them? Imagine: three of the rarest dragons, right here on Berk!" He lets out a wistful sigh. "Ah, well. No use dreaming about it just yet, is there?"  
Althea shrugs and then she remembers her bag of wool which she then lays on the counter and pushes towards him.  
Gobber nods in thanks.

"So. What about yourself then? Nabbed yourself a fella yet, Cross?"  
"Have I...what?" she gapes, cheeks flushing.  
A cheeky look of understanding begins to light Gobber's friendly face as he picks at the ties of the sack with his hook.  
"Oh ho, I see!" he cries. "Hm. Who's the lucky fool that's finally stolen Althea Cross's heart, I wonder?"  
"I..." Althea stammers and Gobber lets out a chukle.

"I'll guess it, you know. I did teach all of you young rascals, remember?"  
For a moment, Gobber frowns and grumbles something under his breath as he focuses his efforts into unknotting the stubborn bag. Then, he gives up and simply tears into the side with the tip of his prosthetic.  
"Now then." he sighs, smiling again.  
And he begins stuffing the white fluff into the hollow forms of what look like sheep plushes as he talks. "Let's see here...It's not likely to be Snotlout. You burned that ship down before it ever had the chance to set sail." he laughs. "Fishlegs is a sweet boy, but...no, something about that doesn't seem quite right either. And it obviously wouldn't be Hiccup. Which leaves either Tuffnut..."  
He sneaks a quick look at her to gauge her reaction to the name and Althea tries not to give anything away in her expression, but she must not be as careful as she thinks because suddenly, Gobber grins and says, with certainty, "Or the newest addition to the little group: Eret."  
His eyes twinkle in merriment as Althea hems and haws over how to respond.  
"Ah, so it _**is**_ the dragon trapper then, is it?"

A little too late, Athea begins, at last, to protest this, but Gobber suddenly lifts up one of the plushies, holding the open seam closed with his good hand.  
"There. That'll do nicely for the little ones in the village, don't you think?" he asks.  
"What? Yes? I-I guess so." Althea stammers. "It's...very nice."  
The viking chuckles good-heartedly.

"...Erm. Gobber, I don't feel anything special for Eret..." Althea tries again, but she is not very convincing.  
(Even to herself.)  
"Well, i'm just glad you're still here, no matter what, or who," Gobber winks. "it's for. I don't think you've stayed with us this long since..." He frowns up at the ceiling as he thinks for a moment. "well, since before you got Bloodbiter. And even then, we hardly saw you except for during training- always locked up in that house of yours all alone."  
"I...didn't know that I..."  
_I didn't know that I was missed, _Althea wants to say. She doesn't.

"Ah, well. Don't want to keep you any longer than necessary." Gobber chatters on. "And as promised, you're welcome to a bushel of my crops any time you'd like, per our usual arrangement."  
And Althea knows that her sheep's wool isn't worth having to grow a whole extra patch of crops for her sake but that Gobber is just being good to her because that's what he is; honestly good. And so, in a rare show of kindness, Althea sighs.  
Then, she ducks into the shop, plops herself down on a bench, and takes up a needle and thread to help sew the dolls together and Gobber grins.  
"You're a good sort, Cross. You know that?"  
Althea tries to smile and then, they start their work.  
Or, they try to.

But out of the blue, they hear loud shouting from outside, growing nearer and nearer to where they are.  
"Althea! Sorry, Mrs. Ack, have you seen Althea anywhere? Yes? No?"  
The chief of Berk himself zooms right past the window a few moments later and Althea and Gobber just exchange confused glances.

"What in the world is he on about?" the blonde viking wonders as he hobbles over to the window. Still, he decides he'd better call Hiccup back and so the man sticks his arm out the door and waves it back and forth shouting, "She's over here, Hiccup!"  
A few seconds later, the chief rushes into the room, and then, simply stops for awhile to catch his breath, gasping for air and hunched over forward with his hands on his thighs.

"Say, you feeling alright there, Hiccup?" Gobber asks in concern.  
"What? Oh. Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." the chief rambles with a wave of his hand. He straightens then and whirls on Althea, making her jump in surprise.  
"You! You have to come and see this!" he says.

The dragon rider just stares in bewilderment.  
"See...what?"  
"Oh. Well, uh." the chief pauses. "The thing is, I don't really know. But you have to come with me!" Hiccup insists again desperately.  
"Hiccup, i'm busy." she frowns.  
"It's urgent."  
"I'm sure it can wait a few hours-"  
"It can't. Trust me."  
"But we have all these dolls to sew for the kids-"  
"Althea, you're not listening!" Hiccup interrupts and Althea finally falls silent at his uncharacteristic display of frustration. Her friend lets out a deep sigh, then looks at her with his green, green eyes. "Bloodbiter is saying that it's urgent."

Immediately, a cold chill runs down Althea's spine and her mind starts to race at the sheer number of things that could possibly be wrong this time.

"Take me to her."

* * *

"...I can't _**believe**_ you." Althea fumes through gritted teeth. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?!"  
Hiccup tries to dodge a blow to his side, but it connects with his shoulder instead and he crumples.  
"Hey, ow!"  
Althea raises her fist again and two Nightfuries just watch from the sidelines, puzzled but entertained, as the dragon rider throws a few more harmless punches.  
"No, wait! Ah! I'm sorry! I didn't meant to scare you, I promise!"  
Of course he hadn't meant to. Althea knows that.  
But, dammit, he _**did**_.  
And she is still too weighed down by what's happened to just let things like this go.  
She strikes out again.

It is a good minute later when she finally lets up, huffing and puffing and drained of all her energy.  
Hiccup lowers his defensive arm and sneaks a quick peek at her.  
"Better?" he asks cautiously.  
"...Better." Althea replies.

And immediately, Hiccup brightens again much to her chagrin.  
"Alright then. Get over here and let's do this." he says. Then, to Toothless, "You ready, bud?"  
With a reluctant sigh, Althea follows her friend as he marches over to where Bloodbiter has scrawled out yet **_another _**piece of art in the dirt.  
Only this time, Toothless and Hiccup are here to help translate it because apparently, her drawings are really just a story that hasn't been getting through.  
"Okay. Go." Althea says tiredly.

And the odd game of charades begins.  
First, Bloodbiter gestures to a part of the picture with her nose or tail. She might garble something to Toothless to elaborate. And then, the other Nightfury turns to Hiccup and either warbles something too, or tries to act it out. The chief tries to piece together words, and finally, the story reaches Althea and she is meant to figure a meaning from the nonsensical rambling.  
It sounds simple enough.  
But hardly anything is ever easy when it comes to dragons.

"Toothless." Hiccup chastises, trying to siphon dragon spit off of his clothing.  
The Nightfury chirrups and then, both dragons turn to each other and gurble out a laugh in harmony; one a slightly higher-pitched trill than the other. Bloodbiter hops around cheerily and Althea giggles.  
"Okay. So, let me recap. There's a dragon and a very strange man." she says.  
Toothless blinks.  
"Yeup. That's right." Hiccup interprets.  
"And there's also a girl." Althea continues, gesturing to the scribbles meant to represent the character. "But this girl isn't with the man or with the dragon. She's off somewhere else."  
Bloodbiter nods.  
"So now, the man has a key and he's going somewhere to do something important...and...what's next?" Althea asks.

The game continues.  
And the dragon rider has no idea who any of these characters are or what they have to do with her, but she plays along anyway because she trusts that Bloodbiter really is trying to tell her something important now. And, well, it's nice to see the dragon so happy.  
Althea smiles at the sight of the two creatures together and she nearly misses the end of the story completely.

"And that means that blob there is...a uh...a cave? A cake?"  
Toothless pouts and, beside him, Bloodbiter chirps something.  
The other Nightfury suddenly perks up. Then, he leaps to his feet and goes through a series of odd leaps and bounds that are somewhat endearing in their complete lack of clarity. To Althea, at least. Because evidently, Hiccup understands perfectly.  
"No, not a cake. A cage! Looks like a dragon keep? And that means that one inside must be Bloodbiter!" the chief exclaims. "The man with the key, he's going towards her...Quietly. He's hiding. He doesn't want to be seen. But...he's about to do something...right. Something...something good."

It takes awhile for Althea's thoughts to go round.  
But when they do, her entire world starts coming apart around her.

All she can hear in ears is the sound of her blood pumping. All she can see is a hazy blur of colors.  
And her throat closes up.  
And her hands tremble and her breathing grows short and she can't even move.  
Because...because if what she's understanding from this is true, if what she thinks her dragon is telling her is in fact real (and judging by Bloodbiter's quick tilt of her head, Althea suspects that it is), then everything she knows is wrong yet again and she's never been anything but a fool- a worthless, naive, stupid fool who's never done a single thing right in her life after all...

She's trusted all the wrong people and she's hated all the wrong people, too.  
And with this, now she understands why she's so impossible to love, so easy to betray, so easy to hate.

She's self-righteous and proud and can't actually do anything except for revel in her solitude and lick at her wounds and act angry with anyone who isn't herself. And yet, she still walks through Berk as if she has a right to do it, as if she is somehow better for having suffered and survived. Even although she's been living blind this entire time.

Pathetic.  
That's all she is.  
All she'll ever be.  
An indignant child, playing at being an adult.

Hiccup doesn't notice Althea's life come crashing down around her, of course. He is still lost in his own musings.  
"Hmm. Does any of this make sense to you?" he mumbles, and he turns to look at her, but there is nothing left beside him but a cloud of dust.  
Althea is long gone, already darting back through the town in a dead sprint because she needs answers. Real answers. Now.

Hiccup shrugs.  
Bloodbiter gives Toothless a chirp of appreciation.  
And then the two dragons sit side-by-side and watch Althea's figure grow smaller and smaller in the distance, content in knowing the mystery is laid to rest at last.

Bloodbiter knows that the dragon rider hurts.  
She knows that the dragon rider shrinks and withers and is haunted by the unforgivable person that Althea thinks she is. But Bloodbiter also knows that with this, her rider can finally tear down the old ruins of her past and set her shredded insides aflame and build up something new- something honest from the ashes at last.

And maybe, some day, Bloodbiter will be able to nudge Althea in the arm or bump her forehead to show her that she loves her, as the dragon so often tries to do. And maybe, on that day, Althea will finally believe that she deserves it.

* * *

_Two weeks later, Eret is back once again.  
It had taken every single ounce of willpower he possessed to keep himself from storming Drago's fortress before the next drop was due. __And now that the day is finally here, it takes all his willpower once over again to remain calm all throughout the actual drop and cargo check itself and then the collection of his pay (the gold pieces feel worthless and cheap, as brightly as they glitter between his fingers) and then through another supper that lasts an eternity, too._

_His leg jumps and jostles underneath the dining table during the entire meal and he tries to still it, but gods, he can't get himself to- even with Drago Bludvist sitting just across the table from him again._  
_Eret holds a breath and tries to eat at a somewhat glacial pace, but every pause between chewing and swallowing just feels too long.  
__Bite, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, swallow.  
And then, more of the same.  
Lift his silver spoon, chew without tasting, swallow the food down.  
And repeat.  
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.  
__It is pure agony._

_Finally, just as he thinks he will burst with impatience, Eret drains the last of his wine from his cup and he slams it down against the table._  
_"Well, it's been great seeing you again, Drago, my friend." Eret says glibly, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. His voice is just a tad bit too loud with drink and laced with thick-headed bravado but, thankfully, Drago Bludvist chalks that up to fear and he sneers in dismissal of the dragon trapper._

_Eret grits his teeth as he crosses to the door on unsteady legs._  
_Each step is torture._  
_Each step is precious **time**, wasted._

_But once he finally slips out of the room and shuts the door behind him, for a moment, he just collapses against it, breathing a silent sigh of relief._  
_Then he takes off, as quickly as his feet can carry him._  
_Back to her.  
Back to that deteriorating stone wall and those rusted iron bars and the unnatural stillness of that one small space where time seems halted and yet, passes all too quickly, just the same.  
But things, they are not hushed and calm tonight._

_"...Do you want to eat or do you want to die, dragon rider?"  
__Weak, incoherent moans uttered through a fading consciousness.  
__"Wake up and answer me!"  
__The sound of something striking hard against skin. A mournful wail.  
__"Do you want to eat or die?"  
_"_I want to die...I want to die! Just let me die!", desperate screams between wet gurgles of choked weeping._

_An angry flash of silver.  
__"Do you want to eat, or die?"  
__"...I want to die...  
__"Do you want to eat, or die?"_

_Over and over again until the girl stops answering and only cries harder and harder with every blow that is dealt to her.  
Suddenly, the sound of a heavy door creaking open echoes throughout the cell.  
Slow footsteps.  
A pause.  
__"Bring in the meal." Drago Bludvist chuckles._

_'Die or eat'? 'Bring the meal'?...  
None of this makes any sense._  
_Too confused not to do so, Eret chances a very fleeting look down into the dungeon._

_ A strange man hovering over the girl in her cell. Drago Bludvist stands just a foot away.  
The prison is littered with little rotting bits. Of what, Eret doesn't know.  
But then, amidst all the other unrecognizable parts and pieces, he sees something there.  
One whole._

_It's the decaying head of a dragon._

_And suddenly, everything makes sense._

_Drago's men wrestle something into the room with loud shouts and Althea sobs, face buried in her hands, blood trickling down an ugly gash in her forehead and shoulders because she knows what's coming._  
_"Get up!" someone snarls at her._  
_They drag her to her feet and suddenly, she comes face-to-face with an injured Monstrous Nightmare, barely matured, judging by its' size. Heavy chains wrap around its' neck and broken wings as the men force it to bend to their will._  
_Frightened, the creature turns its' upturned eyes at her, the one sympathetic face in the room, and Althea can't bear it._

_"...I won't eat." Althea says through gritted teeth. Her feeble, cracking voice grows quickly into a shout. "I won't eat and i'm not telling **any** of you **anything **so you can go right back to hell where all of you belong__!_"  
_Her words, however, sound much braver than she feels and she clings protectively to the dragon's snout after her outburst. The creature presses into her. For courage.  
_  
_At this, the men spit and hiss and move to tear her away from the beast's gnarled horns, but Drago holds up a hand to stop them and he just smiles._

_"Do you really think this is the worst we could do to you?" he asks. "In a few days, we will come back. And the same story will play out the way it has before. __You **will **kill it. Now or later, with further persuasion or no, it makes no difference to us."_

_Althea shakes her head with damp eyes, but even she doesn't fully believe it when says, "I won't do it...Not this time..."_

_"...Won't you?" Drago asks. And there is a knowing glint in the curl of his lip. "Tell me, do you not grow weary of the constant hunger, dragon rider? You are already cold and filthy and tired. You know you are fighting a battle you cannot even hope to win, and yet, every single time, you fight." _  
_Althea's face crinkles and her lower lip quivers.  
He chuckles._  
_"But the time has come for you to accept what you already know. I__f someone thought you worth saving, you would have been rescued long ago. You're here with us. For good. So eat. And gain your strength back." Drago grins. "There is still so much more for you to endure."_

_And Althea knows that he is right.  
Everything he's said is right and she feels light-headed and famished and absolutely wretched..._  
_So, when Drago holds the sword out to her, she takes it in her trembling hands and the dragon beside her begins to whimper and mourn as it struggles desperately for freedom. The chains rattle furiously as it scratches at the walls, the ground, at anything._

_From his place high above, the dragon trapper draws back as the blade comes swinging down._  
_Even he cannot bear to watch.  
He can hardly bear to even **hear** the pained shrieks of the creature and the cruel laugh of Drago Bludvist and the hopeless cries of __**her**._

_The death of the creature is not quick, by the deliberately blunted edge of the sword._

_And so Eret finally faces the greatest of all his wrongdoings at last.  
Betraying her?  
Leaving her?  
Hiding?  
All those things had been crimes of their own grand measure, but now Eret knows that he has done one worse than even those:_

_She hates herself, you see.  
__Because Drago Bludvist has twisted her mind into thinking it is all under her control;  
Whether or not she can stand the physical abuse and neglect and starve for another day if it means she can spare some poor creature just a little while longer. Whether or not she feels hungry, whether or not she feels that raw, basic, human instinct: to survive- to **survive** which means eating, to eat which means killing, to kill which means sinking deeper and deeper into the inescapable trap Drago Bludvist has so perfectly tailored to all her greatest vulnerabilities..._

_The dragon rider- the strange, lovely, wonderful dragon rider, she hates herself. And not only that, she hates **herself** most, out of everyone else she could possibly think to hate in the world: himself, Drago, the guards..._  
_And Eret can think of nothing more terrible he could have possibly done to her than this.  
__But there is nothing he can do about it now._

_No.  
That isn't quite true, Eret suddenly realizes.  
_  
_There is still something. _  
_There is still **one** last thing that it is not yet too late for him to try.  
_

* * *

"Eret!"  
She's shouting his name, running everywhere, pushing through the number of Thawfest participants all trying to squeeze into the keep below the stadium.  
He has to be here somewhere.  
He has to be.  
Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut...  
Althea turns and continues her search.  
"Eret!"

Suddenly, a familiar head peeks out from behind the cover of a stable door.  
Althea stops in her tracks.  
"You're...here..." she gasps between labored breaths.  
"...Are you alright?" Eret simply asks, a crease forming between his brows. He reaches out a hand to help steady her, but she shakes her head, knowing that she'll become a sorry wreck the moment she feels his fingers against her skin, and right now, the thing she needs more than anything else, is just the truth.  
"No, no. Don't...Don't touch me..." she breathes.  
Eret shrinks back immediately.  
"No! That isn't-I didn't mean to-..."  
He frowns at her in confusion, then.  
And Althea sighs and decides she'd better just get on with it quick before she ruins this, too.  
She takes a second to collect herself before she looks him dead in the eye.  
"Eret, I'm going to ask you something and I need you to tell me as plainly as possible. Do you promise?"

Eret nods readily, never even blinking in his earnestness.  
Althea swallows.  
"Okay...Is it...Is it true that you-"

"Look alive, you two!" Astrid interrupts brightly as she skips past. "It's almost time to start which means we need to get out there!"  
The viking tugs Althea by the hand to drag her away first and the dragon trapper's eyes widen in panic.

"Wait! Astrid! She was-" Eret tries.  
But Astrid just laughs, not understanding the gravity of the situation.  
"Come on, you can flirt later. Right now, we need to get to the arena! Don't worry, Bloodbiter's waiting for you, Althea. Hiccup brought her back safe and sound-"  
"That wasn't what I-"  
"-and she's already saddled up and everything-"  
"I wasn't going to-"  
"-so you'd better do your best!"

Althea represses the urge to growl at Astrid as she continues to march her further and further away from all the answers Althea needs so much to hear.  
But then, she supposes, it can't be helped: it will have to wait.

But that's okay.  
Bloodbiter is here. And Eret is here, too.  
She has time.

* * *

_Ouch...I don't even know where to start. Reading my own writing is just...ew everywhere._


	11. Of Finding Home And Sudden Kisses

_Thank you, thank you to all of you amazingly amazing people! The wonderfully kind Dalonega Noquisi, the mysterious G (guest), grumpypirate and everybody else! Your reviews are the bee's knees. The bee'sfriggin'knees, I tell you._

_Anyway, we're so close to the end you guys! One more chapter left! Not sure how to feel...but I hope you enjoy, as always, and thank you so much for reading! (Hello to all my new readers, too!) __Also, in case it isn't already glaringly obvious, i'm not much of a songwriter...But, I mean, here we go...Oh my lawd. This chapter is so cheesy, it's kinda hard to bear..._

_Special warning:  
It's 5 am and I need to get to sleep for now, but this will likely undergo heavy editing again in the morning! Or whenever I wake up._

* * *

"And welcome to the annual Thawfest games!" Valka's voice cries out.  
The whole of Berk cheers and hollers as the contestants, all lined up in the center of the stadium, primp and posture dramatically beside their respective dragons for the sake of the crowd's excitement.  
The entire stadium is packed full with grown men and women- both burly and thin, tall and short- as well as with elders, weathered and hunched over, but still just as bright with enthusiasm as anybody else. The lot of them gnaw on their roasted, skewered morsels as they look on fondly and think on memories of their own years participating in the games. Heady, delicious scents waft through the air.

There are children here, too; a whole flock of them scrambling and pushing as closely to the action as they can get. They grasp at the protective metal bars that separate them from the players with their tiny star-shaped hands and stare dreamily down at the group of riders, enchanted by their importance. The riders, to their happy little minds are just so glittery and untouchable and _**cool**_.

Well, all of them seem so except for one, anyway.  
Althea Cross, the black sheep of Berk, or so they've been warned, simply stands there throughout the introductions. Her arms are crossed over her chest and there's a placid look on her face as she lets her Nightfury do all of the showboating for her.  
All the little ones peer at the rider curiously.  
They haven't seen very much of her in their childhood.  
They know only what they've heard, but...she _**does**_ look somewhat crotchety and grumpy-faced, they decide. The children giggle. Like a very old woman: bitter, maybe, but not truly harmful.  
And suddenly, amongst themselves, they decide to play their own delightfully dangerous game: 'Who's brave enough to gawk at Althea Cross?'

But then, just as their fun is beginning, the dragon rider catches them staring and gives them a side-long glance from down below.  
An uneasy chill runs down the children's spines and they all shriek or squeal as they look away.

Slowly, the children dare to peek out from between their fingers, but when they do, much to their surprise, they see that the rider is...**_almost _**smiling at them, clearly amused by their antics.  
The children gasp and stare.  
And when Althea finally turns away, they jump out of their shocked trances and share little whispers of "Did that really just happen?" or "I wasn't even scared!" or "You nearly wet your pants, you liar!" between themselves.  
But afterward, they continue to watch the events all together, feeling light and bubbly and merry once again.  
(Because maybe _**she**_ isn't as bad as some of their parents tell them, after all.

* * *

Althea sighs under her breath.  
She's always been fond of Thawfest- just not of having to actually participate, especially with all the scrutinizing gazes she receives every year thanks to Berk's outright disdain for her. This year, however, the day is even more difficult to bear because she has so many blighted questions on her mind.

"And now for our first event, the sheep-lug!" Gobber announces.  
And at this, Althea's attention is won over.  
Because, 'sheep lug'?...  
Something about that sounds...suspicious.  
On a hunch, Althea frowns and peers over at where Gobber is explaining the rules of the game, and sure enough, eight of _**her **_sheep are all huddled together in a space enclosed by metal fencing.  
"Not again..." Althea grumbles.  
It's not as if she's the only one on Berk with sheep. And still, they always insist on using hers.

"Come on over and collect one each, riders!"  
Grudgingly, Althea follows her friends as they plod over to wait in line for one of the creatures to be handed to them.  
Hiccup receives Ili.  
_Lucky_, Althea thinks. She's the littlest one.  
Tuffnut is given Kili and Ruffnut, Nili.  
Not exactly light, but not hefty, either.  
And it continues.  
As she draws closer and closer to the beginning of the line, Althea ticks off the remaining sheep, considering their weight until it is just Eret first, and then her remaining, and oh, she hopes that Eret is the one stuck with Mili...Because Mili is heaviest, you see, and if _**he **_does not receiver her, then Althea will.

Luck is on her side today apparently.  
And Althea breathes in relief as the disgruntled sheep Mili is, in fact, passed over to the former dragon trapper with a great amount of difficulty on Gobber's part.  
She giggles at Eret's expression.  
He's seen Mili before but, no doubt, he'd never considered how much a plump animal like her might actually weigh. And to make things worse, the sheep, as much as she pretends to dislike Althea on a daily basis, is rather proud and loyal of mind.  
In a word: competitive. And so, hoping her owner to win, Mili hangs limply in Erets arms and chews at his hair and does everything in her power to make her difficult to carry, even although the game hasn't officially even started yet.

Althea laughs in amusement at the sight.  
"You're up next!" Gobber calls cheerfully.  
Althea steps up and receives Fili in her arms, who she then hoists around her shoulders comfortably.  
Fili licks at her face in relief.  
At least he's being carted around by someone he trusts.  
"Alright! Riders, to the starting line!" Gobber says to the others, and they try to obey.  
But...Althea's sheep are not the cooperative sort.

"Agh! My eyes!"  
"Ow! Quit it!"  
"Wait, wait! Come back, little guy! Don't run away!"  
The villagers of Berk roar with laughter and Althea just cringes as she watches chaos unfold before her eyes.  
Ruffnut is chasing after Nili who is gallivanting wildly around the stadium, Fishlegs is fighting to keep his trousers on as Cili tugs at his pant leg with her teeth, and so on. Everyone is deadlocked in some type of ferocious battle.  
From the announcer's stand, Valka gives Gobber an imperious look. Gobber just shrugs, at a loss for what to do.

Out of the corner of her eye, Althea sees Eret struggling just like the rest of them.  
Mili's feet are kicking and she's twisting and turning and the dragon trapper is just barely managing to half-drag her towards where he is supposed to go.  
After another moment of grappling, Eret sighs and he puts the sheep down again.  
"You're one of Althea's, aren't you?" she hears him ask, kneeling to the creature's height.  
Mili lets out a mutinous 'baa' and Eret laughs.  
"Yes, well then." he says, rubbing the palms of his hands together in apprehension. "Terribly sorry about this."  
And before the sheep understands what for, Eret scoops the creature up and swings her around his shoulders with a firm grip, mimicking Althea's posture so that it has no room to do anything but lie still.

Althea blinks in surprise. So does Mili.  
"Ha! I've...I've done it!" Eret cries triumphantly to the others.  
"Teach us!" Fishlegs begs desperately. He is on the floor now, being dragged by his ankles. To his credit, his pants are still very much on his body.

One by one, everybody gets sorted out and soon, the race is set to begin for real.  
"Good grief! Next year, we'd better use someone else's sheep, I think." Althea hears Gobber mutter to Bucket beside him.  
The other viking nods in agreement.  
"Alright then! On your mark! Get set!...Go!"

The entire day is full of mishaps just like this one.

For instance, in axe-throwing:  
"And so, the score stands at...well...zero. For everyone." Valka announces with a little laugh.  
Ruffnut and Tuffnut fume in the corner, each angry at the other for tampering with their weapons.  
Astrid punches Hiccup in the arm with a shake of her head and a smile.  
Hiccup had mis-aimed his throws, but, thanks to a well-timed kiss on the cheek, he had been able to distract Astrid and bring her out of the count as well.  
She didn't seem to mind this very much, of course, which Althea finds rather sweet considering Astrid is usually so cutthroat about winning everything.

"Next group of throwers, please!" Gobber says.

Snotlout, Fishlegs, Althea, and Eret take their places in front of the stacked barrels that are painted with red targets on one end, as their audience shouts encouragement.  
Fishlegs stretches very carefully. Snotlout shakes out his arms, face scrunched up in concentration.  
Eret grins confidently.  
"And...first, we have Snotlout Jorgenson!"

From somewhere in the crowd, Spitelout Jorgenson pops up and thunders out a very enthusiastic family cheer as his son steps up.  
Snotlout waves in return, then refocuses, brings his arm back, and throws three blades, all in quick succession.  
_Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!_  
All of them land exactly on their respective marks.

"And Snotlout wins the first point!"  
The crowd cheers.

After that, Eret gains a point as well. Fishlegs misses by just a hairsbreadth.  
And as for her...  
"Another for Althea Cross!"  
There is a light smattering of applause, sparse compared to what the other contestants had been given, and Althea just sighs at the crowd's rather unenthused reaction.  
Still, it's what she had predicted to happen so she takes it in stride.  
Bucket adds a blue tally mark beside a crudely drawn picture of her face on the scoreboard as Gobber sums up the results.  
"So, Eret with one. Snotlout with one. Althea with one. Zero for Hiccup, Astrid, and the twins...Which means, after his victory in the sheep lug, Snotlout Jorgenson is still in the lead!"

With log-rolling, things are even worse.  
Ironically, perhaps, Althea had never possessed a particularly keen sense of balance and so, within a few mere seconds, she had toppled to the ground with a short squeak of surprise, as the suspended log continued to turn rapidly this way and that.

Althea lets out her millionth sigh of the day and dusts her hands off before she tries to stand and clear out of the way.  
But then-  
"Wo-woah! Look out!"  
_Fwumph!_  
"Urgh!..." Althea groans, as an enormous, fleshy mass drops flat onto her torso. "...Get...off...Fishlegs!" she gasps.  
The stout viking rolls off to the side and Althea gulps in air like a floundering fish on land.  
"Oops. Sorry." Fishlegs giggles timidly. The viking quickly helps her right herself and offers up a sheepish smile.  
"It's...fine...Don't worry...about it." she answers between pants.  
"That's two disqualified now!" Gobber declares.  
"Ack!"  
And suddenly, Ruffnut comes flying at them and the three dragon riders are all in one heap on the ground.  
"Your foot- is in my mouth!" Althea splutters.

The day continues to pass in a fast-paced, spinning blur until, finally, it all boils down to this; the final event of the day, the lead-in to day two of the games where all of the events will include dragons: the scavenger hunt relay.  
"Yes! Finally!" Fishlegs says.  
He is pleased to know that his bid for a more intellectual event in the games has been heard.  
"Alright! Here are the rules. Gather round!" Gobber shouts.  
Everyone huddles in, dragons included.  
"Dragons first. They'll get you your first clue. When they drop it in your hand, you're free to start searching for what you need. Everyone has something very specific they'll be told to find. Now, Astrid, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, you go to Bucket to get checked off. Hiccup, Eret and Snotlout, come to me, and Fishlegs and Althea, you go to Valka. First one to make a lap around the stadium after, with their object still with them, wins!"  
"Pfft. That's easy!" Tuffnut boasts.  
Gobber chuckles knowingly.  
"We'll see about that, won't we? Just remember; anything goes! Good luck, riders!"  
The man hobbles off again, tugging up his belt, and the circle of contestants breaks.

"Come on, Bloodbiter. Might as well give it our all. Even though we all know how this is going to end." Althea says to her dragon with a laugh.  
The creature gurbles her assent and then lowers herself down so that Althea can unlatch her saddle to make flying easier.  
The two of them aren't dead last, exactly, but everyone in Berk knows that Snotlout will win the games.  
A Jorgenson always wins.

"Alright!" Gobber says. "You'll see your very first hints are all nailed to that beam up there. On the word 'go'! Is everybody ready?"  
The crowd positively screams.  
"Dragons! On your marks...Get set...and...Go!"

All eight dragons beeline for their target, a rush of air blowing in their wake and their riders cheer them on.  
"You can do it Stormfly!"  
"Go Toothless!"  
Immediately, the Nightfury darts out just a little faster than the others and goes speeding towards the wooden plank where eight little scraps of paper flitter in the wind.  
"Just a little faster, Bloodbiter!" she calls.  
And the dragon obeys. She spurs herself forward, swerves this left and right, bobbing around Meatlug, Hookfang, and Stormfly.  
It's just there; a mere foot away if she can just-  
"Yes! Nice work, bud!" Hiccup says.  
Toothless garbles triumphantly, then tears a clue from the beam with his mouth, before turning to touch back down to the ground.

Bloodbiter snorts in disappointment as she arrives just a few seconds later.  
"It's okay." Althea calls. "Come on, we can catch up!"

When she return to the arena, Bloodbiter spits out the soggy hint into Althea's hand and the dragon rider squints down at it to make out the words, as one-by-one, the other dragons land as well.

_"..._The one...with the hardest punch...'The one'...? What?"  
A person? Her 'thing to find' is...a person?  
Althea frowns in confusion thinking that can't be right, but then-  
"Gotcha! You're coming with me!"  
Althea lets out a shriek of surprise as she is hurriedly yanked and hauled over someone's shoulder.  
A familiar backside comes dangerously close to her field of vision.  
"Snotlout! Put me down!" she fumes.

His body shakes with laughter as he takes off into a run.  
"Not a chance! I'm winning this!" he shouts.  
She gives him a a hard jab in the side-  
"Agh!"  
-and he reflexively drops her in the dirt.  
Althea scrambles to her feet to go off in search of her own target but Snotlout suddenly latches onto her again.  
A hard kick in the shin.  
"Ow! What the-"

"And it seems young mister Jorgenson is having some mighty difficulty with Althea Cross over there in the east side of the arena!" Gobber commentates to the crowd.

Eret laughs heartily as he watches the two bicker back and forth- every attempt at another grab blocked by a punch or a quick dodge or a kick.  
Served Snotlout, that smarmy lad, right for all the times he had intentionally tried to make Eret jealous just for the fun of it.  
"Close 'close' friend, indeed." Eret chortles to Skullcrusher.  
The iridescent dragon grins then spits up his own piece of parchment and Eret whistles merrily as he unfolds his own piece of parchment.  
He is brimming with confidence until he sees what is written there. And then, he is just embarrassed.  
_The one who has your heart._

"Hiccup and Ruffnut still in the middle of their...well, rather pathetic looking slap-match...Oh-ho! Bit of a nasty kitty-punch, that was!" Gobber chuckles. "And then we've got Fishlegs and Astrid scrappling for Ruffnut, as well! But...what's that? Oh! It seems as if Snotlout may just be gaining the advantage!"

Eret's head snaps up again and it is true.  
The smug viking is carrying her quite easily now- one arm tucked under her still-kicking legs, and the other wrapped firmly around her waist as he saunters towards where Gobber is standing.  
The grin on his face is irritating, and in a moment, Eret is dashing madly towards them.

To win, of course. Just to win.  
No other motive...

"Althea! Althea, come with me!" he shouts.  
But, "Ha! Not a chance!" Althea calls back defiantly.  
And then she tugs one of the horns on Snotlout's heavy helmet and brings it down over his eyes. In his moment of confusion, she wriggles out of his grip once again and sprints off before anyone catches her again.

"And Althea Cross makes her escape!" Gobber cries. "And now, now she's heading off to dive into the fray along with Fishlegs and Astrid for Ruffnu- no, wait! Astrid, i'd say. She's after Astrid then! But no, Eret, Son of Eret, blocks her escape!"  
The blonde viking lets out a boisterous laugh.  
"This is the best thing i've seen all year." he remarks to Bucket.

"You're coming with me!" Hiccup says, eyes shut, head turned away.  
"Uh. I don't think so. _**You're** _coming with _**me**_!" Tuffnut retorts, shrugging to avoid the stinging blows.  
Their rapid, airy slapping shows no signs of letting up.

"Let go!" Astrid growls, tugging at Ruffnut's arm.  
"Never!" Fishlegs cries.  
"I'll gut both of you, if you don't cut it out!" Ruffnut yells.

"I'm winning this one, Eret!"  
"I don't think so!"  
"Oh my gods! If you're gonna fight, at least put me down and do it!" Althea snaps, once again hoisted up and dangling over Snotlout's shoulder languidly.  
She's never gonna win this game.  
She suspected as much before, but she's sure of it now.  
Althea sighs dryly as Snotlout body-checks Eret. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she sees the piece of parchment that had been sticking out Eret's back pocket flutter to the ground. Curious, she peeks at it between Snotlout's leaps and lunges- it's not like she's going anywhere anyway, at this rate.

"The one_..._who_..." _She gasps quietly._ "..._has your heart_..."_  
And Althea's cheeks suddenly burn red. (Although she isn't quite sure if that's just the blood rushing to her head now, or actual blushing.)  
Nevertheless, she makes up her mind.  
She just has to wait...

And then-  
"Owwww!"  
"Oh! And in a very effective surprise attack, Althea's foot finds Snotlout's nether regions." Gobber laughs.  
Snotlout looks up at her teary-eyed.  
"Why, Althea?" he sniffles.

She pats him on the arm apologetically.  
"So sorry..." she says. "I'll make it up to you later!"

"And now, Althea Cross will no doubt be wanting to go after- No. She's...staying." Gobber says in amazement. "She's staying, everybody! With Eret, Son of Eret!"  
The viking's face breaks into a grins as they both scurry over to him together. And seeing this, the other contestants quickly try to sort themselves out in desperation.  
"We're here! We made it first!" Eret's pants between breaths when they arrive.  
"Right, you are!" Gobber says. "Just need to check your slip and you can go on."  
The dragon trapper fishes around for his pockets for awhile, but then, Althea simply steps forward and hands it over.  
Eret's eyes open wide, as Gobber takes it from her and begins unfolding it.  
"...Did you read it?..." he mumbles to Althea.  
He does not look at her.  
She doesn't look at him either when she nods.  
And then both of their faces are bright red and blushing in bashfulness as they squirm awkwardly and Gobber snorts with laughter.  
"Alright, get on, you two!" he says.  
He gives Althea a sly wink as he waves them off with the parchment.

"We're here, too. We're ready!" a pair of voices calls behind them.  
Hiccup and Tuffnut.  
"Oh, are you?" Gobber says in surprise.  
"Better Hiccup than Eret..." Tuffnut grumbles, making a face at the former dragon trapper.  
Eret laughs good-naturedly.  
"Uh-oh. Looks like Snotlout's back up." Gobber muses. "You two'd best get up in the air now."

Althea and Eret snap to attention and suddenly, are rushing towards Skullcrusher, nearly tripping over each other in their haste.  
The crowd cheers loudly for them now, too caught up in the humor and light-heartedness of the day to care much _**who **_wins anymore, so long as someone does.  
"Here! Take my hand!" Eret says, from Skullcrusher's back.  
She does and he pulls her up into the seat behind him with such ease she never would have guessed he'd once been afraid of the creatures. She wonders at how things are now; _**him**_ helping _**her**_ on top a dragon.  
"Let's go, Skullcrusher." she hears him say.  
Cautiously, she grasps at the back of his vest as the creature leaps into the air, rising higher and higher until the people are mere specks far below.

"Don't think it'll just be that easy!" a distant voice hollers.  
"It's them!" Althea yells over the sound of the wind. "They're catching up!"  
"Faster, come on Skullcrusher!" Eret shouts encouragingly.

But soon, not only Hiccup and Tuffnut, but Astrid and Ruffnut are up in the sky as well, flying faster than he has ever seen them fly.  
And spurred on by this, Skullcrusher suddenly darts forward, mustering all of his strength to push a little harder, fly a little faster. He swoops in a large curve and then, when the stadium is in view, he takes a sharp turn down.  
"We're right on your tail, you know! Faster, Stormfly!"  
Astrid's jubilant laugh.

"She's close, Eret!" Althea says.  
In a fit of nerves, she holds tighter to him and Eret's heart pounds furiously in his chest.  
"Come on, boy! you can do it!"  
"Nearly there!"  
The specks in the distance grow and they grow and Eret leans forward intently, determined not to lose. Why, he cannot even fathom.  
But he won't.  
He can't.

They dive downward, ever faster and deeper until they rush into the midst of a wild crowd and they hear the voices say-

"And for the first time in years, not Snotlout, but Eret, Son of Eret leads day one!"

* * *

Come night time, the villagers aren't the least bit worn out in the slightest. The sheep have been put safely away, and most of Berk's dragons are either sleeping or playing amongst themselves. But there is still a tranquil happiness in the atmosphere as the people take their suppers outside in the cool spring air, gathering around the bonfires that have been lit throughout the village and rise sky high, ebbing away at the dark with their peculiar, smoldering coppery-gold luminescence.  
The people sip at spring vegetable soups, nibble on sugary fruit pies and tarts, devour grilled fish and baked potatoes with their fingers, pausing between piping hot bites every so often to blow on their fingers to cool them.

"Hey, Althea! Come over and eat with us!" Hiccup calls, waving her over as the dragon rider passes. The others try to beckon her over as well, but Althea just shakes her head with a smile. She is grateful for their offer.  
But now that she is free at last, with no more duties or distractions or responsibilities, she has something she needs to do. Someone she needs to find.  
Because true though it was that they had ended the game together, right after, _**he**_ had been swept away in congratulations, and she had had her own menial tasks to see to and this kept them busy for the rest of the day.  
But not any more.

Althea continues drifting from place to place, no real destination in mind. Like a moth drawn to flame, she ventures closer to the glimmering lights, sees that the one she is searching for is not there, and continues on to somewhere else.  
She slips through and between warm conversations, none of them meant for her ears, as she passes; catching pieces of whispered secrets, hearty jokes, idle small talk here and there- remaining nothing but a simple shadow, an unremarkable ghost trespassing upon each laugh or show of love she happens across with nothing to catch her down and ground her and stop her from floating.

And then, amidst everything else, she chances a glimpse of a very familiar pair of boots strolling across the grass.  
The footsteps stop.  
Althea's eyes travel upward.  
Dark trousers, the beginnings of a wool-trimmed dark red tunic, a fur vest with ties that haven't quite been tied tightly enough to completely cover his chest.  
_**Someone**_ has been looking for her too.

Eret begins to smile at her from across the little space littered with jovial vikings who do not even notice the two of them suddenly wrapped up in their own peace and quiet.  
She can't quite hear the words from this far away, but she can read the perfect form of his lips as he talks.  
"You wanted to talk to me?"

A light gust of frigid air, the last of winter's frost, blows through Berk, but Althea can no longer feel the cold.  
She nods.  
And then, all at once, the two of them take a step and they're fighting through the small crowd of people with just one singular goal in mind; to reach each other, like two wrong pieces that finally know where they are meant to be, where they belong, where they fit best.

They stumble together.  
"...Shall we?" Eret asks, voice low and pleasant in her ear.

They steal away quickly, even if nobody is actually even acutely aware of them leaving.  
Althea is eager to ask, and Eret is eager to hear what she has to say.  
Breathless, they arrive at the entrance of his home and at the sight of it, Althea just realizes she's never actually been here before.

Eret pushes open the door, gestures her in- ever the gentleman- and then shuts the door again behind him.  
The rest of the world dims into a distant dream the moment it swings closed.

"Hang on. I'll get a fire going." Eret says, ambling around in the dark.

As the man kneels in front of the pit, Althea glances around curiously, and what she see is...somewhat surprising. The hut looks very much like her own; empty.  
An unmade bed peeks out from the doorway of the bedroom and there are hardly any personal belongings- hardly any color or luxuries, too.  
It's just a house; four walls and a roof, made to do nothing but contain a hollow, unexceptional life.  
Contain it, nothing more.  
It's almost sad, really, Althea thinks. Because apparently, Eret _**hasn't**_ been just carelessly throwing his past behind him and living freely.  
Echoes of terrible things still live through him too, in their own way. Except he, unlike her, doesn't allow those nighttime terrors to stop him from living new days, every day.  
And that is brave in its own right.

"So." Eret says suddenly, dusting off his hands as he gets up off the floor. He gestures to a worn divan in front of the now crackling and popping fire. "Care to have a sit?" he asks.  
Polite. Just a little bit glib.  
Nervous.

But she can't handle the pleasantries any more.

"Eret," Althea says, tone serious and afraid. "Tell me. Is it true?"  
Eret frowns in confusion.  
"Is what true?"

She lets out a shaky breath and clenches her hand into a fist.

"...Is it true that you let us go?"

* * *

_It's a mistake, a colossal one. A huge, enormous, gigantic mistake...  
He'll get caught.  
He'll die and be strung up as an example for everyone else and what good would it do to have both of them dead? This reeks of bad and doesn't make a lick of common sense. _

_These are the thoughts that run through his head even as he hurries through the dark toward his destination anyway.  
Snow swirls in the air around him.  
Even if no one is around, he keeps to the shadows._

_A key is gripped tightly in his hand.  
__Weighty with the burden of its terrible secrets.  
__Searing into his skin like a hot brand, like it knows exactly just how important it is._

_But gods...it was scary just how simple it had been for Eret to take it...  
__He'd used every trick he'd been taught, every trick in the book- stealth, deception, street smarts, sleight of hand - just to get in so he could filch the key and get himself the hell out again after._

_And now, here he is._

_Eret takes a deep breath as he comes to a stop before the monstrous entrapment of wood and iron in which he knows **it **is kept._

_Even now, he can hear the even breathing of the slumbering creature deep inside the keep and for another moment, Eret waits._

_He lets his hands shake-_  
_He lets his lips tremble-_  
_He lets his heart pound-_  
_It's another moment that will change everything, you see._  
_Only this time, it happens on his terms._

_"Strength...Courage..." he whispers to himself._

_The dragon trapper lifts his hand, fits the key into the lock, and turns it._

_And then, as quietly as he can, he swings the heavy doors open._

_It creaks.  
The even breathing stops and suddenly, __Eret throws himself to the side and huddles in the corner, nauseous stomach threatening to empty out in fear of being discovered__._

_He waits. _

_And then, as sure as day, he hears the skittering of quick claws on stone nearing the entrance.  
__**Her** dragon's head pokes cautiously out the opening.  
Could it be some kind of trap, it wonders._

_The dragon peers out into the dark warily and Eret shrinks himself down as small as he can and prays the dark will cover him. And it does, and the dragon detects something is strange, but not bad and so she takes the chance, and Eret watches as something very beautiful happens._

_The creatures eyes light with hope and she stretches out her black wings and now, rather than the docile lifeless beast she had been just seconds before, she seems exactly what she is; a Nightfury._  
_Strong and powerful and the first thing the creature does is run off towards Althea's prison with a reckless abandon, using her rider's scent to track her down._  
_She lets out an ear-splitting roar as she goes._  
_'Let the guards hear me.'_  
_'Let them kill me if they catch me.'_  
_'I fear nothing now.'_

_The deafening explosion of a stone wall being blasted to bits rings throughout the camp and almost immediately, Eret hears the guards beginning to shout and sound the alarms and he knows he has to be gone. Soon._  
_Drago can't know he's still here._

_But he waits where he is anyway until he sees, with his very own two eyes, the distant figure of her and the dragon grow fainter and fainter against the night._  
_Together._  
_**Together**._

_...And he is left here._  
_But...that is exactly the way it needs to be, Eret tells himself._

_Because through all of this, he has finally come to understand now that Drago Bludvist is not a villain you can fight and win._  
_He is a villain you can only run from and pray never finds you._

_For Eret, it had always been too late. He'd been caught in Bludvist's sights from the moment he'd been born and that was that, but there is still hope for her._

_Oh, she'll try and return to him someday, of course. He knows her well enough not to doubt that._  
_She'll want for revenge, for answers, for retribution- and rightly so._

_But, even though Eret longs so desperately to let her have those things; to see her again, for the sake of keeping both dragon and rider far, far from ever crossing paths with Drago Bludvist again, Eret makes himself a new oath, now._

_And it is to hide well._

_To hide well, and never let her find him._

* * *

"What-Why would you think that?" Eret gapes.  
"Bloodbiter told me, but does that even matter-"  
"Bloodbiter?" Eret echoes. Then, realization dawns on him. "Skullcrusher." he mutters. "Damned dragon. I knew telling him stories was gonna bite me in the arse one of these days."  
Althea just stares at him in horror, suspicions confirmed.

"...Why didn't you ever tell me?" she whispers hoarsely.  
Eret lets out a sigh as he runs his fingers through his dark hair.  
"I almost did." he confesses. "I wanted to, but...maybe it's better that I lost my chance."  
And Eret turns to her suddenly, fearing what this revelation may have wrought on Althea's hard-won, piece-by-piece, carefully reconstructed life.  
"It's true I let you go, Althea, but I betrayed you first. All of this- it doesn't matter."  
He is too late.

"It_** does**_, though!" Althea insists, eyes wet with tears. "How- _**Why**_ would you let me go on thinking the absolute worst of you? Why would you let me ignore you and turn you away and hurt you if you were in the right all along and I, the wrong?"  
Her head droops in defeat then, and she sniffles, face buried in her hands. "...I'm sorry." she breathes. "Oh, Eret, i'm so, so sorry..."

The dragon trapper's heart cracks.  
"Althea, no. No, sweet, don't." he murmurs. His hand on her shoulder is gentle, but firm. "You had every right to treat me the way that you did. I wasn't a good man then. One deed doesn't change that fact."  
But Althea just shakes her head, overwhelmed.

"I...I saw. What happened to you. Because of me." Eret confesses.  
Althea's eyes grow wide open.  
"What?" she breathes.  
"I saw you. I saw what he- what Drago Bludvist did." Eret's gaze flickers down to the floor. "I saw everything..."  
She falters a step backward, prepared to run at this, because all of the sudden, she feels stripped bare and empty in the cold shock.  
But Eret catches her, pulls her back because he sees her starting to fade into herself.  
"Be angry with me." he pleads, eyes burning into her own with their sincerity. "Shout, hurt me if you need to, but don't you ever feel guilty, Althea. Not about this."  
Blank eyes blink back at him.

"...Tell me what you couldn't then."

It takes a moment.  
A long one.

But Eret is patient and so he waits and, finally, her lips fall open and she asks the questions she's always wanted to ask.  
With each one, the impossible era of silence between them cracks into little branches that split into little threads until it all comes rushing forth.  
Her voice is hers again; a turning, sweeping, thunderous river; a tumultuous cascade, a flood- relentlessly pushing and pounding against a shaky, hopeless dam built of nothing but the lies they've told themselves and each other, growing weaker and thinner with each passing second until-  
the dam breaks.

And then, there is a complete silence ringing in the air around them, and suddenly, they are just they.  
Her and him, and him and her- dragon trapper and dragon rider facing each other once again; as the people they had been three days ago, three months ago, three _**years**_ ago, and the people they are now, all at once.

They are her horrid days in the lonely cell.  
They are them sparring and pushing words and feelings down, down, deep down.  
They are the first time they'd met, when he'd been tied to the trunk of that tree and watched, exhilarated, as she'd left him there.

They are all the awkward hand shakes, the first dance, the knocking heads, the slow forgiveness, the learning each other's names...  
They are every moment they'd ever spent together.

"...What am I supposed to think, Eret?...Tell me, what am I supposed to do?" the dragon rider asks. "That night, I thought my whole life would change and it did-" Althea utters a self-depricating laugh that trails off into a weary sigh. She keeps her eyes carefully trained on the floor as she continues.  
"But, see, I thought it'd change because i'd be with you...Instead, I got trapped in a dungeon and even through everything Bludvist did to me, I still tried to blame myself, you know? Convince myself that it couldn't be _**you** _that betrayed me until there weren't any excuses I could make for you _**left**_, and it crushed me to have to accept that. But the worst of it was...the worst of it was all the time I had to wonder about it while I was there in that prison..."  
"Why would you even bother making excuses for a man like me?"  
"I bothered because...in all my life, i've only ever had the courage to ask the gods for one thing, Eret. It was you- just you, nothing else. I suppose I thought that that meant you had to be...something good."

There are a million things Eret wishes he could say to this. But he knows that words will cheapen the feelings so he asks only this question instead:  
"...If i'd kept my promise to you, Drago would have come after us. Can you honestly say you wouldn't have regretted it? At all?"  
Her even gaze meets his as she answers.  
"If you had kept your promise and we'd have been on the run from Drago Bludvist every day of our lives after, I wouldn't have regretted a single minute." A pause. "But you didn't keep it. You gave me over and because i'm weak, I did exactly what Bludvist wanted me to do. For awhile, I thought I was right in hating you for that, but now?...Now I know that you let Bloodbiter and me go and I just feel...confused and- and sorry. And...what am I supposed to do?..." She laughs bitterly, tears in her voice. "Gods, is there anyone in this world that I _**haven't**_ done wrong?..."

"Althea," Eret murmurs, his own eyes beginning to prick red now. "I was a coward. There's no excuse I can make for that, but I loved you." he says, and it is such a relief to finally say the words. "I loved you from the very first time you outsmarted me...Still do. Never doubt that."  
And in a fit of inspiration, Eret suddenly gets on his knees.  
"So, let me beg you, Althea." he says earnestly. "Let me beg you as I should have done long ago. For your forgiveness."

"I..." Althea stammers. "...What?"  
Everything is too much.

But Eret simply takes her hand in his, gently, and doesn't move to get up.  
"It was wrong of me not to seek you out myself. I know that now." he says, deep eyes peering up into hers. "I was weak and false and I-I can't undo what damage has been done, but I intend to try and...I want to make things right. With you. If...if you'll have me."

It isn't just the fact that he let Bloodbiter go.  
It is that and everything else.  
He _**is **_different now. Braver, truer, but just as good- honest in a way he never would have let himself be before.  
And that is everything.

"...Get up, Eret..." Althea murmurs listlessly.  
Not quite certain how to read her tone, Eret slowly lifts just his head, expecting more questions or a rejection or anything but this:

Without warning, she suddenly tugs him closer and, at last...  
At last, at last, at long, long last.

Still on his knees, Eret melts into the kiss, melts into _**her**_. And just like that, three years come tumbling together and all the moments- the pains, the struggles, the impossible walls, come collapsing in on this one instant; this inevitable thing that has finally come to pass.  
It's been delayed.  
Time and time again; by circumstance, by wrong choices, by bad timing...  
But finally, this kiss that they've battled for and battled for again and again and yet, somehow always suspected was inevitable, it happens.

As far as first kisses go, it is not one that is particularly graceful.  
His lips are bitter with the salt of both their tears, and hers are dry and rough from being bitten in nervousness. Still, they savor the warmth of her hand against his cheek and the breath trickling from his lungs that grazes her neck for just a moment before the man and the woman press their mouths together again; closer this time, and shutting their eyes to savor this desperate thing that they have both wanted for years.  
And then, he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer and she gasps at the heat from his touch and suddenly, even this clumsy kiss seems perfect.

They're free, they're new, they're so much more than that.  
They're what they used to be, only better.

When she pulls away, Eret smiles. And then, giddy and mischievous, Althea tugs the arm still locked around her waist and turns the both of them to the floor, and he gasps up at her in surprise, then laughs brightly.  
She wipes at a stray tear caught on his dark lashes.  
And he leans up and kisses her again.

* * *

_Eret runs.  
He runs and runs and runs to the very edge of the ice until he comes to the sea, waves rolling black in the moonlight._

_It's time for him to go._

_But first...  
Eret takes the heavy key in his hand and he throws it out into the water where it sinks down into the depths of the ocean, lost forever.  
Gone._

_After tonight, he will be a new man._  
_A crueler man._

_But a better dragon trapper._

* * *

"Alright. Now it's you turn." Eret says.

"Hmmm..."  
Althea thinks for a moment.

It is well-past midnight now and the both of them will, no doubt, regret passing so much time awake come morning.  
But for now, they can't think of anything else they'd rather be doing.  
A meteor could strike the world right this second, cause the entire island to fall into the sea, and still, they'd hardly notice it.

The crackling of the fire is soothing, and Eret and Althea sit in each other's company in the middle of the living room on a veritable mound of soft blankets and pillows. Their outermost layers have been shed partly for comfort, and partly because of the enveloping heat from the flames, but neither of them have ever felt this content for a long time.  
And it is a very strange thing, to be _**home**_\- after an entire lifetime of feeling completely alone.

"Alright." Althea finally says. "This one."  
She tugs the collar of her shirt down and exposes her throat, where the beginnings of a faded white line glistens on her pale skin.

"I...I think I know that scar..." Eret murmurs.  
She flashes him a half-hearted smile.  
"Then you already know the story behind it, too, i'd wager..." she mumbles. Then, more lightly, "Well, it still counts, so...Your turn, dragon trapper."  
He laughs, a gentle sound that sends a warmth rippling through her blood.  
"That's the last of them on my end." he says.  
"Mine too." she answers.

He takes hold of her hand then, simple because he can, and the two of them, they lace their fingers together as they take in the sight of their marred, cut, bruised arms side by side.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we?" Althea laughs.  
Eret chuckles in agreement and then, he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of her behind her ear.  
After, his fingers wander down to trace a wound at her neck and her eyes flutter shut and she remains still as a marble statue, trusting him to see the marks of her past.

When his hand grazes a faded scar running across her cheek, however, she flinches and goes stiff.  
"Are you alright?" Eret asks, starting to panic.  
"Yes, i'm fine." Althea assures him with a bit of a strained smile. "That one's always been a bit...tender, is all."  
"Oh..." he murmurs.  
He retracts his hand and Althea nods gratefully.  
For awhile, they are silent, simply drinking each other in because no matter how much they do, it still never feels like quite enough.  
They have been parched, and no amount of time together is enough to quench their thirst.

Gods, just the sight of her familiar face...  
The slight curve of her lips, the bright eyes, the dark patches underneath.  
Tired. So tired, but...  
So beautiful.

And before Eret even knows what he's doing himself, his mouth opens, and his song tumbles out in a rich, deep voice that Althea marvels at.

_A man with nothing,  
__And his love, she knows.  
__And still, it's he that she chose.  
__Beautiful and fleeting,  
__Quietly meeting:  
__Her lips and mine.  
__Her eyes and mine._

_Nothing much to offer her,_  
_Only just his heart._  
_Still, if she takes it, they'd never be apart._  
_He's a poor sort,_  
_Nothing much to give;_  
_Just his hours to her. _  
_Just these vows to her:_

_Oh, I will brave the darkest days,  
For all the times I couldn't.  
I will be the air you breathe,  
For all the days I wouldn't.  
I will stand and, in your hands, leave my humble heart so true  
For all the days,  
All the hours, i've had to be without you._

_Silver oceans, golden moon,__  
Rainy deserts, dark at noon- __  
Ask it of me. It will be done  
Just for you, my stars, my sun.  
__Because I do,  
__it's true; __I love you.  
__And i'm a different man;  
__A man who can, a man who will,  
__Give all these things to you._

_So hear me:  
Storm, seas. _  
_Thunder, skies._  
_Quake, earth, if that be your will.  
__The heavens could not shake me._  
_Because here, at last,_  
_steadfast,_  
_years past,  
She is here with me.  
_

The song sounds clumsy, despite obviously having been written beforehand. It doesn't flow as well, sound as right, feel as right as ones Althea has heard before (and those _**were** _made up on the spot). Still, to her, it is...more than anything she has ever been given.  
It is more than anything she ever could have hoped for.

"...How do you know that tune?" Althea asks softly.  
Eret blinks.  
"What...what do you mean?"

"...That's...my parents' wedding song. The whole village sang it at their funeral..."  
All the blood drains from Eret's face.

But of course he'd do something this foolish without even knowing it.  
"Oh, I-I didn't know. I'm sorry-" he stutters, very flustered that his small gesture of affection has not gone the way he intended.  
But to his great surprise, Althea just leans in. She tilts his chin up, and kisses him gently.  
When she pulls away, she is smiling.  
"Don't be." she murmurs.  
And then, she opens her mouth and she sings too:

_A man with nothing,_  
_And his love's the same,_  
_She owns nothing in the world but a name._  
_But there's something very strange now,_  
_And it's the world somehow:_  
_His hand with hers.  
His voice and hers.  
_  
_Nothing much she's longed for,_  
_Only just his heart._  
_And she knows, if she takes it, they'll never be apart._  
_She's a poor sort,  
Nothing much to give;  
Just her hours to him,_  
_Just these vows to him:_

_Oh, I will stay through days turned gray,_  
_For all the times I couldn't._  
_I will be your light at sea,_  
_For all the days I wouldn't._  
_I will stand and, in your hands, leave my humble heart so true,  
For all the days,  
All the hours,  
I've had to be without you. _

_So keep your silver, rain, and gold,_  
_I just need your hand to hold.  
Moons and oceans, deserts, dark-  
pale in light of this: your heart.  
Because I do,  
It's true; I love you.  
__And nothing else compares,  
To holding you, to having you,  
To knowing that you care. _

_So hear me:  
Turn, seas._  
_Rain, skies.  
__Burn, earth, if that be your will.  
The world could never move me.  
__Because here, at last,  
__steadfast,  
years past,  
__He is here with me._

In time, after another hour of laughing over their silly lyrics and kissing and kissing again, eventually, Althea does drift off, fingers still curled around his.  
And Eret watches over her for awhile; her calm features lovelier to him than ever before.  
He strokes his thumb lightly across the curve of her cheek.  
And then, the steady cracking and sputtering of the fire makes his eyelids grow heavy and calls him to sleep, and Eret drifts off too.

And so the man and the woman dream there together, nestled underneath a makeshift quilt, and fitted perfectly into each other's arms.

At rest. At peace.  
At home.

* * *

_...Is it totally obvious that I (much like my writing) am a wreck? Cause yeah. I'm a total wreck. _


	12. Of Odds And Ends And New Beginnnings

_This is it, you guys! Man, I honestly can't believe I made it, but thank you so much for all of your wonderful words and shows of support over the course of writing this! I really hope you guys enjoyed it and I'm so sad it's over...I'm not gonna know what to do with myself. Most likely, this will be followed by a long period of going back over and editing and re-editing this story until i'm satisfied, but after that, who knows? A sequel may (or may not) be in the works, maybe a collection of drabbles, maybe both? We'll see how it goes, I guess._  
_Writing is hard..._

_Still, I love you all! You're amazing and i'm so grateful that you guys have stuck with me even when I put out crap like this. __(As usual, this will likely be fixed up a little more when I wake up!)_

_But anyway, without any further ado, here it is!...The final chapter..._

* * *

Surprisingly enough, Althea has only one bad dream that night.

* * *

_Iron and stone closing in on her.  
She feels like she can't breathe. And she can't, not really.  
Not with the cloying stench of rotting filth around her, a stench that's been there for weeks and weeks on end.  
Nearly a month later, she thought she'd be used to it, but the air still burns sharp and sour in her lungs; like a slow poison that seeps into her blood, seeps into her thoughts, seeps into every precious memory she has and burns them all to ash; and she fights and struggles and grasps desperately to keep holding onto what's familiar, what's real, but the poison is strong and darkness surrounds her and everything slips right through her fingers.  
And now she is nothing._

_**He** is here again._  
_He comes more often, now.  
But it makes no difference to her whether he is there or not. No matter what he does to her, no matter what she is forced to do or see or eat, she spends her time, too tired and too sad and too lost to fight through the absent stare that hides her thoughts and feelings.  
_

_"You surprise me, dragon rider."  
Bludvist laughs from the dark corner of the room where he lurks in the shadows, resting comfortably on a rickety old chair.  
There is a harsh edge to his voice; the result of too much drink.  
"So much time has passed and still, you have given me no answers."_

_Althea does not respond._

_And so, unable to stand the idea of being ignored, Bludvist stands and lumbers closer to her. __Even when he is inebriated, he is frighteningly collected and the only __thing that betrays his drunken state is an uneven teetering in his steps and an extra harshness in his tone._

_He throws himself against the bars of the rusted cell with a loud clang._

_"You've a stronger will than i'd expect from the chosen of our dragon trapper." he spits._

_And at that, Althea's eyes finally flicker into something like recognition._

_Drago does not mention Eret often. He prefers to resist aggravating those pains- but only until Althea is just about to forget them so he can have the sole pleasure of tearing into her still-raw skin once again.  
He prefers that the wounds be fresh after all.  
All the better to hurt her with, you see._

_"For him, you have suffered a great many things; beatings, burns, cuts, and bruises...And yet, all it took for **him** to betray **you**..."  
__And suddenly, the cell door swings open and Althea can feel the ground quake with his heavy footsteps.  
__Drago Bludvist's hand closes around her throat and he slams her up against the wall, a silver dagger at her __cheek.  
__"...was this." Drago hisses._

_Althea whimpers as he slashes his wrist in a swift line and a sharp sting burns across her ruddy cheek._

_He releases his hold on her and she crumples to the ground, eyes lowered to the floor the entire time._

_No will. No fight. No power._  
_Just a miserable sob and a hand to her face, trying to staunch the flowing red that dribbles to the ground between her fingers._

_Drago Bludvist grins and turns his blade so that it catches the moonlight just right and glints a dark ruby red.  
"I asked him once, if he wished to see you." he says oh-so-casually. __"He did not. And now, he grows richer each passing day on the coin I pay him, trapping the very dragons that you, dragon rider, eat." The man rasps a thin, papery laugh and shakes his heavy head to-and-fro. "He is more a fool now than ever before- still, he bears the scar I gave him well."__  
_

_Althea sniffles pathetically._

_"And now you, his **lover**, have one to match."  
__A low, gravelly chuckle rumbles in his chest.  
__"Take it as a gift."_

_He leaves her._

_But something about the way he storms out tells Althea that he is growing tiresome with her constant weeping and the unsatisfying absence of her begging and pleading and breaking any more._  
_Which means he'll soon kill her.  
That is a comfort, at least._

_Althea wipes at her face with her dirty sleeve, leaving a grimy streak of salt and red against her pale skin._

* * *

Althea's damp eyes flutter open in the dark.  
Delirious in her exhaustion, all she sees is the bleary deep blue and black of the night and she can't quite remember what terrible memory has woken her this time. She knows only that she feels...uneasy. Afraid.

Althea shifts over, and eyes still half-shut, she reaches her hands out for Bloodbiter as she always does, but the dragon is not there.  
"Bloodbiter?..."  
Nothing.  
"Bloodbiter?"

Panic begins to rise in her chest, breathing grows hard, she moves to sit up but-

Suddenly, her hands grasp at a woolen shirt.  
Althea pauses, rubs the material between her fingers: worn and soft...  
And then, a familiar warm, sweet, earthy scent hits her.

All at once, the memories come flooding back and that is when she finally recognizes the feel of Eret's bulky arm draped over her waist and she can see the outline of his face just there, cheek sagging against the single pillow that both rider and former trapper share.

Althea blinks at him in surprise for a few long moments, fearfully wondering if all of her nightly haunts have turned into delusions- into madness, at last.  
But then...

_"Skrrghk!"  
_Eret lets out an exhausted snore, mouth falling open, face crinkling.  
And Althea stifles a giggle.  
_  
No_, she thinks to herself. _This is definitely real._

And all of a sudden, whatever nightmare had pulled Althea from sleep just doesn't seem to matter any longer.

She lays a cool hand against the dragon trapper's dear face, tracing the lines of his blue tattoo until the creases of worry and trouble between his brows smooth out.  
Then, she slumbers once again.

* * *

The second time Althea wakes, it is hours and hours later, clearly well into the afternoon judging by the intensity of the bright morning light streaming in through the windows.

"Mn..."  
Althea groans and she blinks her swollen eyes around at the ceiling. Her hair makes a light shushing noise as her head turns this way, then that, trying to remember everything that's happened.

Eret is still there; still sleeping peacefully and the sun catches the side of his face and flecks of dust swirl in the golden rays that illuminate the room.

Althea smiles at the sight of it.  
And then she squirms in delight and hunkers down, content to stay exactly as she is until he wakes, too.

But suddenly, out of nowhere, something cold and wet nudges against her arm and Althea nearly shrieks as she shoots up, blanket fluttering around her waist.  
But...

"Gods, you scared me..." Althea breathes, sighing in relief.  
But Bloodbiter just pounces on her with a devious chirp because everything that the dragon had hoped for has come true and Althea tries to muffle her embarrassed giggles as she quiets the creature.

"Bloodbiter, shh!" she whispers. "You'll wake him."  
The creature ignores her and continues to nudge and snort and sniff at her side, cheek, hair, face- giddiness overflowing.  
"Wait, you little- Hey! You know i'm ticklish-...Bloodbiter!"

Finally, the dragon lets up and when she does, Althea smiles and plants a big kiss on the dragon's snout anyway as the creature clambers over the quilt to settle partly on top of Althea's legs.  
"Thank you..." Althea murmurs lovingly.  
Because she understands now what it is her dragon has done.

She turns to Skullcrusher then, staring from the wide-open window where the two dragons no doubt wandered in.  
"You too, you big softie." Althea says. "Get over here."  
With his usual toothy grin, the enormous creature stalks over and lets Althea kiss his horn too, and then he nudges his snout into her hand and Althea's laugh bubbles over.

Eret begins to stir at the sound.  
He peeks one sleepy eye open and the first thing, the **_only_** thing, he sees is her. His lips curve upward into a smile.  
"Morning, dragon rider." he murmurs.  
Althea blushes.  
"Good morning." she answers.

At the sound of those simple words, the smile on his face grows and spreads and for a moment, it seems as if he will never turn his gaze from her again.  
And this pleases her, true, but it also sends the happy butterflies in the pit of her stomach all aflurry.

"Look." Althea says gently, hoping and yet not-hoping to distract him. "We've got company."  
"Is that so?" comes the answer.  
But Eret himself just rests an arm behind his head, making himself all the more comfortable and fit to lie there and revel in her presence.  
Althea laughs at that.  
"Eret..." she chastises.  
"Alright, alright. Let's have a look." he sighs.

And finally, he, too, sits himself up to greet the dragons.  
"Why, you sly old bastard." he says to Skullcrusher affectionately. "Going behind my back now, are we? Just telling everyone my secrets?"  
The dragon preens his iridescent scales and Althea laughs.  
"Well, thanks to him, we're here now, aren't we?" she teases. "Trust me. You weren't doing so well on your own."  
Eret begins to grin.

"Wasn't I?" he says, a devious edge in his tone.  
Althea pretends not to notice it.  
"Mhm." she nods. A mischievous glimmer lights her eyes only for a second, as she continues to stroke the top of Bloodbiter's head in a deceivingly innocent manner. "You weren't being very subtle either, what with you wearing that wistful, adoring, doe-eyed look every time I so much as came within viewing distance."

Eret's cheeks flush red.  
"I...did no such thing!" he splutters.  
"You're doing it now, you know."

Althea's head tilts back as she lets out a carefree laugh.  
And then, she knocks him flat on his back, as he had been meaning to do to her himself, and for a moment, her laugh mingles with his as they revel in their bliss.

"I was kidding." Althea murmurs, so close that Eret can feel the heat emanating from her skin. A tendril of her hair grazes his cheek.  
"Were you?" he replies.  
He tries for a wry, pointed glance but having her this close is rather distracting, and his thoughts become brief and fleeting as he tries to focus on her words- her words and not the fact that she is settled over his body looking excruciatingly beautiful, smelling of his clothes, with his blanket draped over her.  
She, of course, does not notice his dilemma.

"Absolutely." Althea merely replies, in order to placate him. "So you'd better be careful with that manly, seductive smolder of yours or i'll swoon, dragon trapper."  
Eret barks out a surprised laugh.  
"Is that what you think I am? Some drooling lecher?"

And at that, Althea cracks a small smile as she gazes down into his eyes.  
"...No. I think that...you're a good man. And a good dragon rider, too."  
And that is when Eret knows beyond all doubt that he could not stifle the overwhelming urge to taste that smile over and over again, even if he wanted to.

He moves to kiss her, and in perfect unison, Bloodbiter and Skullcrusher grin cheerily and turn their backs to give their riders some privacy.

Eret laughs at that.  
Althea does too.

"So, do you think our dragons would mind very much if I meant to kiss you?" Eret asks jokingly.  
"I think," Althea answers. "that they absolutely would not."  
And, together this time, they lean towards each other, and her lips are just inches away from touching his when-

The deafening blast of a horn echoes across the village, and Althea and Eret lurch apart, hearts hammering away in their chests, as they blink around in confusion.

"What in Odin's name was that?"  
"I haven't the faintest-"

At the same time, they gasp.

"The festival!"

And then, they're both up like a shot and scrambling around to get their gloves and shoes and fur vests back on.  
They are late.  
Late, late, late, and nothing crosses their minds except for the fact that they have somewhere to be; something they have to celebrate in her-...in _**their** _home village.

"We're in so much trouble." Althea groans.  
A glove goes flying through the air.  
"This one's yours!"  
"Hang on! Your vest is inside out!"  
"Where's my other shoe?"  
"Oh, let's hurry!"

* * *

"And now, for the first event!..."

Althea and Eret dismount their dragons just outside the stadium and shoo their dragons into the keep where all the other dragons wait until their introduction. Then, they hurriedly sprint for the doors, lungs and muscles on fire from both their efforts, and clothes in a hopeless disarray thanks to the rush.

"First up, we have Snotlout and his dragon, Hookfang-"

They burst through the heavy doors, causing an unavoidable commotion as they stumble over a display of weapons that goes crashing to the ground.

"I-...oh..."  
Gobber trails off in surprise when he sees them.

And the entire arena goes absolutely silent and a thousand pairs of eyes blink at the two of them; Eret and Althea.

From somewhere in the audience, there is an awkward cough.

And the dragon rider and trapper shift around, slowly growing more and more uncomfortable under the weight of all the stunned gazes.

From just a few feet away, they can see Astrid and Hiccup and Fishlegs and all the rest of their friends, all sharing the same shocked look as they stare in mindless confusion.

And then, they hear it:  
one person's lone, teasing whistle.

The audience scatters glances here and there, still not quite sure how to react, but then, after just another second, suddenly, easily a hundred or thousand vikings are all starting to laugh and whistle and cheer or applaud together.

And Althea doesn't know if the people of Berk are actually happy for them or if they are simply thinking, "At least it isn't any one of_** my**_ children who have drawn the affections of either", or "The two outcasts of Berk, a perfect match", or perhaps even, "Should have known that **_they'd_** get together."  
But as Althea stands there, with Eret at her side and her friends around her and the villagers of her home all calling out spirited shouts of encouragement or giving them salacious winks, it does feel, strangely enough, very much like a victory.

An embarrassed smile breaks across Althea's face.

And then, she looks at Eret and because they are somewhat both socially inept, rather then take all this in stride, Althea falls back a step at the devilish expressions beginning to cross the faces of their friends.

Eret's hand finds hers.

She gives him a look._  
Are you thinking what i'm thinking?_

He quirks his brow._  
Right behind you._

And then, at the same exact time, the both of them turn and flee the area as fast as they can, letting the teasing laughter echo behind them.

Amidst a chorus of Gobber's hearty chortles, Spitelout Jorgenson's chanting and hollering, Ruffnut and Tuffnut's sniggers, and all the rest, Astrid watches the two of them go, smiling.

She knows best what an impossible idea Althea's forgiveness had once been. She knows best what a preposterous thing it had seemed for the two of them to ever be together, despite all the effort that they- Hiccup, and Ruffnut and Tuffnut and Fishlegs and Snotlout and herself- had put in.

And yet, here they all are.  
And there, still scurrying away hand-in-hand, her friends, Althea and Eret.  
Astrid starts to laugh.

She finds it rather sweet, after all, that they could somehow brave the darkest, loneliest, most damaged parts of themselves and find such an innocent happiness.

"Well, it seems like things are finally looking up." Hiccup says from beside her.  
Astrid smiles at him as she takes his hand in hers.  
"Looks like it." she agrees.

* * *

_"'But young Althea Cross, what's she done to deserve the Nightfury? Nothing! Oh, for shame. If her parents could see her now...'"  
The words are said in a perfect dramatization of old Mr. Ack from the village.  
'"Touched in the head! A blight upon the island! Whatever will we do?'-..."  
Althea breaks off her mimicry with a snort.  
"They didn't even try to hide it that time..." she mutters._

_She takes a a savage bite of white flesh from the apple in her hand and Althea lets out a heavy sigh as she chews, perched high above ground among emerald green leaves and gnarled branches._

_It has been weeks since she'd been to Berk last and in that time, she has flown to the furthest reaches of the horizon, hoping to find somewhere new to get lost; somewhere new to hide from the ugly hatred.  
But the cruel words have followed her.  
Even here, to the middle of nowhere._

_"What do you think, Bloodbiter?...Should we stick it out here another week then?" Althea says to her dragon. But the ink black creature is napping heavily at the foot of the tree._  
_"Oh. Well, you're...sleeping. And i've been talking to myself this entire time then, apparently. Thanks for that." the dragon rider sighs._

_To this, the Nightfury simply turns in her sleep so her four paws are sticking up in the air like an upside-down table and at that, Althea finally softens._

_Despite her previous reservations, Althea has to admit, it's nice to have a companion...a **friend** to complain to, even if this friend isn't actually listening to a word she is saying._

_Althea almost laughs at the irony._  
_It's been just a year but she is so changed. She's become someone she wouldn't even have recognized before..._  
_For a moment, Althea bothers to wonder whether her parents really **would** be disappointed to learn what she's become; a dragon rider._

_But suddenly a distant shouting jolts her from her thoughts._  
_The Nightfury wakes from her slumber and looks up at Althea curiously, but Althea is just as lost._

_Quickly, the dragon rider drops to the ground with a light thud.  
__"Stay here, Bloodbiter. I'll go take a look." she says to the creature quietly, because she does not want to put her only friend in danger._

_Before the dragon can argue or follow, Althea hurries through the forest, led by the noises.  
__Deep voices, metal striking metal, shouting..._

_She creeps closer through the brush until she is just a mere foot away from an entire camp of men (of travelers? No...Too heavily armed. Mercenaries, then. Or...poachers. But poachers of what?...) laid out before her; the very first she's seen outside of Berk._

_With a sharp and cautious eye, Althea observes the lot of them, allowing her attention to drift from one person to another as she tries to decide whether they could be friend or foe._  
_At first, she is only wary._  
_Not fascinated. Not captivated. Not enthralled._

_But then, as she continues to glance around, one man, obviously the leader of the group, stands out to her above the rest._

_"Alright, let's set up camp! I've got a good feeling about this place, lads!"_  
_One of the others, a short stocky bloke, grumbles underneath his breath, but continues lugging a heavy sack across the clearing.  
Then, another man, tall and lanky, this one, comes running across the camp and his mouth moves furiously as he describes something with a look of terror on his face._

_The leader's head tips back and his shoulders heave in time with his hearty laughter in response to what is obviously a warning of danger, and something about that carefree, unapologetic gesture, Althea decides that she likes, though she isn't sure exactly what or why._

_She pays the leader closer attention, all her other worries forgotten.  
_  
_Dark hair, dark eyes, a confident grin.  
Broad shoulders and strong arms, criss-crossed all over with scars from a life that Althea finds herself suddenly wanting to hear about.  
_  
_He waves his follower away, then smooths his hair back and surveys the land for a long while. And, eager to know what's caught his attention, Althea looks, too._

_She sees more forest. Lots of trees, spongy dirt, a few spots of patchy grass- n__othing of interest._

_When Althea turns back again, the man is gone and, startled, she turns her head this way and that, feeling oddly more desperate than she probably should, to spot this stranger again._

_But she needn't have strained herself so hard._

_Because out of nowhere, a pair of calloused hands suddenly reach out from behind her and trap her in a vice-like grip.  
She kicks. She squirms.  
She tries to scream, but one hand clamps down over her mouth, stoppering any attempt that rises in Althea's throat._

"_Well, soil my britches. Look at what we've caught ourselves. A thief. Or a spy."_

_Althea's blood runs cold as she watches **that** man appear from out of the trees; handsome face, enigmatic energy, and all.  
He nods to his follower, the short stocky one who has grabbed her, and his lackey begins to tie Althea up, quickly and efficiently._

_"So. Seeing as how you aren't going anywhere any time soon, care to tell us what you're after?"  
Silence.  
"Coin? Jewels?"  
Still, nothing.  
The man snorts.  
"Well, I hate to disappoint you, thief, but you're far from wealthy company out here. Take her back to camp!"_

_Finally, Althea finds her voice.  
"Wait...Wait, please! I'm no thief! I swear!"  
__The man blinks at her, startled by the sound._  
_"I'm just a dragon rider!"_

_As soon as the words leave her mouth, Althea regrets them._  
_How on earth her subconscious could have thought 'dragon rider' any better than 'thief', she doesn't know, and just as she suspects, the man begins to smirk in a poor attempt to conceal his glee._

_"A rider?"  
He laughs again in the carefree way Althea had seen before, only this time, there is a feral gleam in his eye that makes Althea question how she ever could have thought this fool handsome.  
"And I thought my luck had run out after the Nightfury."_

_Althea's breath stops.  
Nightfury?_  
_She blinks over and sure enough, she sees a pair of men dragging Bloodbiter through the brush behind them at spear point._

_Damn..._  
_So Bloodbiter's been caught._

_"This one's sure to fetch us a pretty price from Drago, isn't she?" the man says triumphantly, expecting his men to chime in their agreement.  
They do._

_And as he continues to blather on and posture for his followers, Althea begins working at an escape._

_Bloodbiter is restrained well, but not well enough. One good slice from Althea's dagger and a well-aimed blast and they'd be free._  
_Althea discreetly feels inside her left boot for her knife and is relieved to find that it is still there._

_She almost snorts then._  
_Not checking her for concealed weapons?_  
_Rookie mistake.  
But expected from an arrogant ponce. _

_"...What are you going to do to me?..." Althea whispers in feigned terror as she works at the ties behind her back._  
_"I'm going to-"  
_  
_Turn you in to Drago and get myself a well-earned bonus, the dragon trapper wants to say._  
_But halfway through, his eyes unintentionally meet the dragon rider's just for a second. And an odd thrill runs up his spine at her even gaze._  
_"...I'm going to kill you." he says instead._  
_His companions give him an odd look._  
_Mercy is not usually Eret's go-to path._  
_And Eret himself wets his lips uneasily at the words that have just erupted from him without his consent._

_Althea does not notice any of this, of course.  
She bites down on her lip to hide her grin as the very last of her constraints begin to fall away.  
__Just a little longer...  
She pries at the ropes, fingers burning and straining from the effort and finally,  
__The knot comes loose._

_Given her opinion of the man now, Althea knows that she could and very-well **should** escape this very second. Disappear so quickly, the man would miss her in the blink of an eye, b__ut something, some mysterious, aggravating piece-of-shite thing stops her and, again, she doesn't know what it is._

_"Let us go. Please! I am begging you." she pretends as she tries to force herself to just **go **already.  
_  
_A derisive laugh. This isn't the first time someone's pleaded for their life._  
_The dragon trapper turns to give orders but-_

_"I'm not asking for my sake! I'm not asking for Blodbiter's sake!...I'm asking you to let us go. For yours." There is a pause. And then, her voice is quiet and pleading as she whispers once again, "Let us go."_

_The dragon trapper swallows nervously as he looks at her.  
There is an almost innocent confusion in his eyes._

_And that is when Althea knows that her life, once again, is changed._

_Her resolve to stay strengthens.  
__...Yes, she'll wait and see..._

_For another moment, the dragon trapper seems to falter. He glances at the dragon, then down at his hands, and he almost, he **almost** calls all of it off.  
But then...  
His eyes narrow._

_"You're in over your head, girl! Men, kill her!"  
Althea bites back a laugh.  
"Bloodbiter, you know what to do!"_

_And so, the story of dragon rider and dragon trapper came to be._

* * *

Somewhere high, high above Berk, two strangers, a man and a woman, sit together, side-by-side.

"You know everyone is going to put us through the wringer for that later on." one says to the other.  
A laugh.  
"Let them."  
The woman arches her a brow in surprise.  
"Nothing to hide?"  
Two hands find each other and his gives hers a reassuring squeeze.  
"Nothing." he swears.

And the woman smiles.  
"Honesty suits you, dragon trapper."  
"Everything suits me." the man quips.  
His companion laughs.  
"You're absolutely right." she answers. "But you know, i've been thinking about it over the past few weeks and I think blushing cheeks might suit you best."  
And right as if on cue, the man can feel his face start to redden.  
So much for being suave and dapper, then.  
"You're a right dirty cheater. You know that?" he grumbles, eyeing her accusingly.

"Hm, took you long enough to notice." she murmurs, clambering into his lap with a grin. "I'm an absolute scoundrel."  
The man wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her.  
"You're a miscreant." he agrees.  
This time, she kisses him.

"A swindler."

"A rogue."

"A veritable ne'er-do-well."

"A-...Hmm..."  
The woman thinks long and hard for a good moment, but no other words come to mind and the man laughs as she blinks, a stumped look on her face.  
"You're beautiful." he finishes for her, against her mouth.  
And she just purses her lips together in disapproval of his sweet-talking ways, but her eyes are warm with merriment.  
"Well. Who's the right dirty cheater now?"

A look of mock offense from her partner.  
"I'll have you know i'm a respectable man now. And to be quite honest, i'm insulted you could ever think otherwise."  
"Oh, is that right?" the woman answers, playing along with his game. "Because I could swear that you were a dragon trapper."  
The man grins at that.  
"Well, perhaps we need to be properly re-introduced."

And suddenly, he stands to his feet, holding one hand out to the woman who just stares at him, suspiciously.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Just come on." he says with a laugh.  
And so, with a heavy sigh, she lets him pull her to her feet.

He drops a bow.  
"Pleased to meet you. My name is Eret, Son of Eret. And you are...?"  
She laughs.  
"You're not honestly trying to re-enact the night we-"  
He gives her an expectant look.  
And finally, she gives in with a sigh.  
"Althea. Althea Cross."  
She curtsies.  
He grins.

And then, they stumble around in an odd imitation of their first dance, only clumsier and slower and much more nerve-wracking and suddenly, Althea blurts the first thing that comes to her mind:  
"...So does this mean I get to punch you again, too?"

Eret laughs. Then he gives her a sly wink.

"Only if I get to wake up in your bed the morning afte- ow!"

* * *

_Bloodbiter had flown until near daybreak, putting as much distance between the fortress and her rider as she could.  
But eventually, she grew weary and her rider looked so sick and all Althea had done the entire way was choke and sob into Bloodbiter's scales and this made the dragon feel quite guilty indeed. And so, in the end, she__ had touched down on a remote cliff with a dense forest, perfect for hiding, in hopes that the rider would feel better._

_But Althea had only just fallen from Bloodbiter's back and collapsed into the dirt before blacking out completely._

_It has been hours now, and she is finally up again, but Althea still has not even once looked, truly looked, at Bloodbiter.  
This, the dragon finds disconcerting. And sad. And she knows it has something to do with the odd stench emanating from her rider's filthy clothes, stronger now in the heat of the small fire Althea has built.  
_

_"What now, Bloodbiter?..." the dragon rider whispers, speaking for the very first time since her escape.  
__Her voice is barely audible; dry and hoarse and terribly weak.  
"What do we do now?..."  
_  
_The dragon just nudges her mournfully and for awhile, Althea sits there, huddled into herself and looking down at her ruined hands, her tattered clothing, her emaciated arms._

_And then, she passes her fingers over her scabbed cheek._

_Suddenly, her blood is boiling in anger and Althea's hand clenches into a fist and she grits her teeth._  
_She knows full well 'what now'.  
_  
_Retribution._

_Her eyes burn as the tears well up again, but now, she merely brushes them aside with stinging, scabbed fingers, as she looks to the skies._

_She'll find him. She will. S__he won't rest until the day that she does, a__nd when it happens and he is finally brought down to his knees before her, she'll kill him._

_She'll pay him back, one way or another, for all she's suffered through.  
_

_Anger. Revenge. Hatred.  
Even if for only these paltry reasons, she is determined to live.  
"I'll find you..." Althea swears._

_This means, however, that she needs to get back to Berk.  
She has a hundred matters to see to before she sets off to hunt him down; announcements to make, supplies to procure, people to tell. _

_But first…_  
_She musters all her strength and gets to her feet.  
First, she needs to heal.  
Because she will not let anyone see her. Not in this state._

_"Come on, Bloodbiter."  
She winces as she puts her weight on her right leg.  
"Let's go see what food and healing herbs this forest has to offer us."  
_

* * *

When they join their friends for supper that night, everybody is already sprawled out on a patch of grass under the stars and cradling steaming bowls of hot stew in their hands.  
But, when they see the pair, they set their food down to give the dragon rider and dragon trapper another light round of applause.  
"Took you guys long enough."  
"Aw, look! They're blushing!"  
"Ew."  
"Get a room!"  
"I think they already got one. That's why they were late, remember?"  
"Ha! Oh, yeah."

Indignant and embarrassed, both Althea and Eret open their mouths to defend themselves but all that comes out is an awkward "Erm...", and at the exact same time, no less.  
The group breaks out into another titter.  
Eret rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly and Althea chews at her lip.  
Both their faces are, once again, as red as anything. Still, their hands remain joined as they stand around the group, squirming.

"Alright, alright, you guys." Astrid laughs. "Lets at least let them sit down before we interrogate them."

It is a good night.  
A thousand voices- some laughing, some singing, some murmuring endearments or telling jokes or proclaiming their love, some simply describing their crops, their home, their lives- rise up and merge together like a symphony.  
Over there, a story is told in a deep baritone.  
A light crystalline laugh rings out near here.  
And from somewhere indiscernible, a soft, gentle lullaby weaves through all the other delicate, rushing tunes and trills.

It is true that the faces of the villagers are still hard; still reluctant to change, still wary of anything new.  
But as tough as they look, as hard-hearted and stubborn though these people may be, even their coldness softens just a touch in the glow of the spring fires, and the vikings of Berk are capable of making such beautiful and peculiar music, too.

Eret takes a deep breath and he looks up at the deep blue sky that hangs over them all, dotted with bright stars and a beautiful, white moon. And then he looks around at the familiar faces in front of him.  
Hiccup, Astrid, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout, Fishlegs...  
And then he looks at her, too, listening with rapt attention to something that Astrid is saying.  
The whole group dissolves into a fit of laughter at a pun that he has missed, but Eret still finds himself laughing with the others simply because they are, and she is.  
And that is when he starts to think that it's moments like these...  
'That what?'  
He isn't quite sure.

But it is moments like these that..._**something**_.  
And as Eret finishes thinking that thought and Althea's eyes catch on his and she breaks into a special smile meant for only him to see, the only thing Eret knows or cares about is the fact that his heart is so full it feels as though it might burst.

_He hopes she feels this way too._

His hand brushes lightly against hers in secret; a tentative, fleeting question.  
And what he receives, is a sure answer; her fingers intertwining gently with his.

S_he does._

And it is a beautiful thing for both of them to know.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
